


The Saarebas and The Templar

by Meraad



Series: Always Been You (Taashath/Cullen) [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Cullenlingus, Cunnilingus, Eventual Smut, F/M, Jealousy, Masturbation, Slow Burn, Smut, Violence, minor Blackwall/Inquisitor Adaar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-03-06 16:22:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 34
Words: 67,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13415061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meraad/pseuds/Meraad
Summary: Even though Taashath has technically been free from the Qun for nearly a year, she still has difficulty with the concept of freedom and what it means to lead the Inquisition.





	1. Lips

**Author's Note:**

> I absolutely blame [Nytemere](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Nytemere/pseuds/Nytemere) for this. ~~and also my current depression~~

_Taashath_. Meaning calm in Qunlat, the Qunari language. That is what Shokrakar had begun calling her after they had taken her in. Before that, she had been _Saarebas_. That was her title, her role, her place in the Qun. She was told when to eat, where to go. Commanded when to fight and who. Punished if she did not stay in line. For her own good, of course, because she was dangerous. Dangerous thing. After discovering she spoke in her sleep, they sewed her mouth shut, threatened to cut out her tongue.

Freedom was a strange and uncomfortable thing. She spoke only if directly asked a question and couldn't bring herself to eat unless she was ordered to by one of the others in the Valo-Kas mercenary group. She knew Qunlat, but her new keepers, _no, not keepers,_ she often had to remind herself, spoke a mix of Qunlat and Common. Months later she still struggled with it all.

Humans were on the verge of war, which would affect them all. Mages and Templars. It was strange to see so many _bas-saarebas_ , mages, walking freely. Not bound, chained. Lips not sewn shut. The Templars didn't carry control rods, but she knew they had other methods of keeping mages in line.

She had watched the beginnings of an argument between a mage and a Templar. The two had been yelling at each other, the words had blurred together, but the anger had been clear enough to Taashath.

Valo-Kas were there to keep the peace. She stepped between the two, hands out, pushing them apart. It had only taken an instant, they had looked at her, and she had seen the fear written across their faces. Both had quickly skittered away and she had wondered absently what they had feared? That she was Qunari, _no, no longer Qunari_ , she was Tal-Vashoth now. Or had it been the obvious markings of her being _saarebas_?

Taashath reached up and skimmed her finger along the edge of her lip, felt the holes. She didn't feel as if she belonged with the Valo-Kas. She knew that she made some of them uneasy. But returning to the Qun was not an option, not if she wanted to live, which apparently, she did, though she had no idea why. She was Saarebas, without her Arvaarad, the Qun demanded she be put to death, or do it herself. It would take no effort at all. Many nights she had walked away from the Valo-Kas camp with the intention of doing just that. A simple thought, follow the Qun, end her life.

It was the order of the Qun. But every night she returned to her bedroll with a silent order that she would do it the next night. Months had passed and still, she lived. _After this job_ , she thought, walking down an empty hallway. Once this job was done, she would follow the Qun again.

Someone screamed. One of pain and fear. “Someone! Help me!” Taashath was already running down the hallway toward the voice.

 

* * *

 

 

Cullen made his way from the small room with the statue of Andraste, where he'd gone to make his morning adoration. He noticed a door ajar, one that lead to an empty room and he'd always seen shut. He paused, silently hoped that he would not find his soldiers or the scouts having a tryst, not again. He lightly knocked and then slowly pushed open the door. The windowless room was empty, save for a crate which held a low burning candle and Taashath, the Inquisition's newly appointed Inquisitor.

She sat on the floor, hunched over a book, silvery hair fell over her shoulders, and she absently twisted a lock around her finger. He could see her lips moving slowly and wondered what she was reading. Had she found a book in Qunlat? He understood that she still struggled with Common, despite the fact that they had not spoken outside of the War Room since before Haven was destroyed after a bumbling awkward conversation. Cullen knew that he should leave her, but then he had a nagging thought. Had she eaten today?

It was widely known, though not openly spoken of, that Taashath had a habit of not eating unless someone told her to. Had anyone today? “My lady,” he spoke and she jumped, flinching backwards, the book tumbled to the floor and she looked up at him. The low light of the candle cast her face in shadows, making her eyes practically vanish, save for the golden iris that seemed to glow in the dim light. “I didn't mean to startle you,” he said, slowly stepping into the room.

She watched him, those gold eyes following his every move. Crouching down in front of her, he picked up the book, glanced at it and felt his cheeks flush. One of Varric's romance novels. He held it out to her, and slowly, she reached up to take it. “Have you eaten today?” he asked, not letting go, even though her fingers curled around the spine of the book. He watched her face, Taashath's brow knit together, she looked down and Cullen wondered if she even knew what time of day it was.

Still, Taashath didn't speak. He released the book and she let it rest in her lap. “Alright, then,” Cullen said, pushing to his feet, he stood up, left the room, letting the door swing mostly shut behind him once again. He went straight to the kitchens and asked one of the servants to make up a plate and a pot of tea. Once it was done, he made his way back to the room, hoping she hadn't decided to leave. He had things to do and trying to track her down was not on that list.

She hadn't moved, except to open her book again, she hunched over, and it made Cullen's own shoulders ache just to look at her. He walked in, set the tray down on the table and looked at her. “Eat,” he said.

Taashath looked from him to the plate and back again. “You eat,” she said, pursed her lips. “Join me.”

Cullen had things to do, but he had not yet broken his fast and knew he should eat something, so he sunk down onto the floor on the other side of the crate, picked up a slice of apple and gave her a pointed look. “Now eat,” he commanded again.

She reached out, fingers carefully picking up one of the pieces of cheese. They sat in a not uncomfortable silence as they ate, Taashath taking tiny bites. It made him wonder how she had eaten before, the scars around her mouth, the small holes white against the rich grey colour of her skin, were a clear indicator that her mouth had been sewn shut. Something he'd heard was common among mages within the Qun.

Ridiculous, he thought. A mage didn't need to speak to cast a spell. Though they did leash them in other ways as well. At least mages in the Circles had a modicum of freedom, they were allowed to speak, to walk around freely, to learn and hone their skill. Though, obviously, mages in the Qun were taught as well. Except their purpose in life was to be a weapon and nothing more. He had seen what Taashath was capable of, and it was terrifyingly impressive. “Are you enjoying the book?” he asked finally, breaking the silence, trying to pull his mind away from the dark thoughts.

She glanced up at him, frowned, then shook her head. Cullen felt his lips start to quirk up. He'd heard Cassandra was fond of Varric's romance serial, but most others equated it to rubbish. Cullen had not read it and had no desire to. “Can't read,” she told him and Cullen's smile vanished.

“You can't read Common,” he said. “But, you can read Qunlat?” She shook her head again, ducked her face down and nibbled on the piece of apple in her hand. How long had it been since the Conclave? Eight months? he wondered, and he was just now discovering she couldn't read? Did anyone else know? Leliana and occasionally Iron Bull had helped to translate things for her, were they aware? They must be.

“I wanted to-” she pursed her lips, brow knitting together as she thought. He watched Taashath mouth a word, then again. “Learn?”

“You want to learn how to read?” he asked, and she nodded her head quickly, then held the book out across the table.

“Teach me.”

“No,” he said immediately. “Iron Bull, or Leliana,” he continued, because they at least knew Qunlat. How could he teach her to read?

Taashath withdrew. She pushed up to her feet, the book against her chest. “Thank you,” she murmured, inclining her head toward the tray of food and then she slipped out of the room. Cullen scowled at the doorway. She'd barely eaten a thing. A few pieces of cheese and part of an apple, mostly she'd sipped the tea. Grumbling quietly to himself, he gathered the tray, extinguished the candle and left the room.

It was several hours later, Cullen had seen to the troops, tended to other duties, but for some reason, Taashath was on his mind. He hadn't seen her since that morning and wondered if anyone else had. Had she eaten?

Of course she had, certainly, someone was seeing to her. She had gotten this far without any help from him. But the thought nagged at him. “Bull,” he called, seeing the big man heading for the bar.

“Hey, Commander,” Bull said turning to look at him.

“How do mages eat?” he asked, then flushed at the idiocy of the question. “I mean, Qunari, when their lips are sewn shut.”

“Ah,” Bull gave a slight nod. “Liquid, drink it through a straw. Their lips are supposed to be sewn shut tight enough that they can part just enough to get a straw between them.” Iron Bull cocked his head. “Any particular reason you were wondering?”

Cullen shook his head. “Uh, no, thank you.” Of course, he thought. It made sense and he wondered why he hadn't realized it before. He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck as he walked away.

 

* * *

 

 

Taashath peered at the mug that the Commander set down in front of her. She rarely saw him outside of the War Room, only when he was training the troops. But now it had been twice in one day. She had returned to the small windowless room near the gardens because it was quiet and out of the way. Her quarters upstairs were far too big, too _pretty_. She was afraid to sit at the desk, worried she might break the chair, scuff the legs of the table with her boots.

“Eat,” he said, his voice authoritative and she wondered if it was the Commander's day to watch her. He never had before. It was Josephine, Leliana, Iron Bull, mostly who would show up with food at various times, remind her to eat, before they'd be off. None had joined her like Cullen had that morning. Which she didn't mind, she knew that her inability to properly speak Common made things difficult, and often ended with awkwardness. Which was why she was so surprised that Cullen had stayed. She had embarrassed herself terribly months ago. They hadn't spoken since.

He hadn't brought her a plate this time, just the mug. Her brow furrowed and she reached for it, peered inside and the rich scent hit her nose. A broth that smelled divine. Her mouth watered and she wanted nothing more than to gulp it down, but she refrained. She had to be careful when she drank, the holes around her lips leaked if she was too enthusiastic about it.

“Oh,” he said suddenly and then she watched him drop a length of reed into her drink. A straw. “Now, eat,” he said again and then he turned and walked back out the door. Taashath stared after him, then looked back at the mug with the straw and she nearly wept.

She had been trying so hard to eat, like a normal person. But chewing made her jaw ache. Curling her fingers around the reed, she pulled it to her lips and sucked and the flavour exploded across her tongue. Taashath didn't believe she'd tasted anything so wonderful in all her life. She drank the soup far quicker than she should have and her stomach ached, but it was a comfort. She needed to figure out a way to properly thank him.

 


	2. Alliance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so excited that people enjoyed the first chapter, but now I'm terrified I won't do it justice. *weeps*

Some mornings, when Taashath woke up, for a moment she would believe that everything that had happened was a dream. That she was still a part of the Qun, that her Arvaarad would release her from her nightly chains. The minutes would tick by slowly, no one would stir and she would remember.

She was _alone_.

She was now the leader of the Inquisition. It was a strange thing. Humans preferred to follow humans. She had seen the way most treated elves and dwarves. Unkindly, as if they were somehow _less_. Whereas Qunari were feared. Hulking beasts. _Ox-men._ Especially when she struggled with the language. She heard the whispers.

Over her long months with the Inquisition with help from both Iron Bull and Leliana she was able to understand most of what was said in Common. Not all, but she could at least comprehend what people said. Speaking it was another matter. Taashath struggled to get her tongue and lips to cooperate to form the words she wanted to say.

It was part of why she'd begun to try and teach herself to read. She knew she was at a disadvantage not being able to read, not Qunlat, not Common, nothing. Saarebas do not need to know these things. They know their place, they know their job. _But you no longer follow the Qun_ , she reminded herself again.

Carefully she rolled over, pushed the thin blanket back and reached out for the ladder in the dark. Taashath climbed down from her perch and pulled open the door and stepped into her bedroom and shot a disdainful look at the massive bed. She had tried to sleep in it the first night it was there, but it had been too soft, too out in the open. Instead, she had made herself a bed up in the loft.

She had finished dressing and was braiding the long silver strands of hair when she heard a knock. “My lady, I've brought breakfast,” a small voice called.

“Come in,” she called back, her voice echoing in the cavernous space.

The elven woman who brought up the tray was petite, she looked frail, but Taashath had seen the woman who worked in the kitchens, hefting large trays and heavy buckets. She offered Taashath a small smile, an easy twist of the lips. “Commander Cullen wanted this to be sent up for you,” she informed her, setting the tray on the desk. “Why didn't you say something? It's a simple enough request.”

Taashath looked at the tray, a mug, not broth this time, oats? No, it was finer than that, thinned with cream. “Thank you,” she said, noting the reed straw as well.

The woman huffed and stuck her hands on her hips. “You need to keep your strength up, out there fighting demons and Maker knows what else. Can't have our Inquisitor keeling over in the middle of a fight. Eat it all, young lady.”

“Thank you,” Taashath repeated and the woman gave her a sharp nod before she left. The porridge would have been impossible to suck through a straw if not for it having been thinned down with the cream. It was bland in taste, but it filled her belly and didn't make her jaw ache.

Taashath wasn't sure why the Commander had suddenly stepped in. Nor did she have any idea how to thank him. It seemed she fumbled worst with words when it came to him. Their last conversation, back in Haven, she'd tried to inquire about family. Because that is what humans had. Families. It was such a foreign concept to her. But her words had been wrong. He'd turned red as his cloak and informed her that he was not interested in her. Which had, in turn, caused the blood to heat her face. Afraid to even try and salvage the conversation she had turned around and walked away and avoided meeting his eye ever since.

Then yesterday, with the book. His adamant refusal. Of course, he had better things to do. As did Leliana and The Iron Bull. She would just continue to try and figure it out herself.

In the war room, they discussed the Winter Palace, and their continued efforts to get in. The very thought of a ball terrified Taashath. The cold, calculating humans in all their finery. If she had felt uncomfortable among the Valo-Kas, her own kind, she could only imagine the disaster it would be with her at Halamshiral.

“Have you eaten yet today?” Leliana asked, speaking in Qunlat.

Taashath nodded, casting a quick glance at Cullen as he gathered his papers. “I did.” She saw what could only be relief in Leliana's eyes.

Taashath knew she was a burden in that way. She tried, truly, she did. But her entire life she had been told when and what to eat. Where to go and what to do, but now, she was given duties and choices, options of what to do first. She wasn't in chains and was allowed to walk freely without someone following her with a control rod, willing to incapacitate her should she stray too far, or not respond immediately.

That itself was terrifying. Freedom. Taashath didn't understand _how_ to be free. Because she still wasn't really, was she? She may no longer be in chains, but she would always be a prisoner. Qunari. Saarebas. Herald. Inquisitor. Freedom in invisible chains.

The advisors filed out of the war room, and she followed. She considered going to the small room she had claimed as her own but she spotted Iron Bull. He gave her a look and then jerked his head, silently beckoning her to follow. “I got a letter from my contacts in the Ben-Hassrath. Already verified it with Red.”

The words caused a chill to run up her spine. Ben-Hassrath, the spies of the Qunari. Learning that Iron Bull was one had unsettled her. But he didn't kill her outright, so his words had been true enough. Saarebas weren't ever sent for reprogramming. Obey or die. Those were the options. A chance for an alliance with the Qunari. Her stomach roiled and she regretted having eaten breakfast.

“I need to consider this,” she told him.

“Don't take too long. If we're going to do this, we need to leave for the Storm Coast as soon as we can.”

She found herself stepping into Cullen's office without having considered her actions. He looked up, eyebrows raising in surprise. “Inquisitor,” he intoned, nodding his head. “What can I do for you?”

Taashath pursed her lips, wishing she had taken the time to figure out the words before she'd come here. “Alliance with the Qun?”

Cullen frowned, brows drawing together. “You want an alliance with the Qun?” He hadn't been sure he'd heard her correctly, but she nodded, then promptly shook her head, and Cullen reached up to rub his forehead. “Maker's breath,” he breathed out and saw her duck her head, her long braid slipping over her shoulder as she did so.

“The Qun wants an alliance,” she said. “Against the Venatori.” She was wringing her hands and Cullen couldn't help but wonder why she had come to him.

“How do you feel about the possible alliance?”

She went utterly still and then slowly shook her head. “The Qun does not ally easily.”

“That doesn't answer the question,” he said, resting his hip on his desk and crossing his arms over his chest as he watched her.

“It would be,” she paused, thought over her words. “A boon for the Inquisition.”

“Still, you haven't answered the question. How would you feel about making an alliance with them? It hasn't been quite a year since you left them.”

The soft puff of laughter was not remotely amused. “Left them,” she said, shaking her head. “Valo-Kas killed my kith. Killed my Arvaarad.”

“I don't know what that means,” Cullen admitted. Word was, Val-Kas had rescued her but did she not see it that way? There were some mages that preferred the Circles, while others abhorred it. Where would she fall? “Would you rejoin them?”

Her eyes went wide and gave a slight jerk of her head. “No,” she told him. “The Qun says Saarebas apart from their Arvaarad must die.”

Cullen was incredulous. “What?” That would be like saying any mage who had escaped the Circle, not been under guard of Templar, should die. He rubbed his hand over his mouth, realized often that is what happened. An escaped mage would never willingly return to a life of imprisonment.

She shrugged one shoulder. “It is the way of the Qun. A Saarebas must never be alone.”

“So, because your,” he tried to remember the word she had used. “Arvrad?”

“Arvaarad,” she corrected. “One who holds back evil.”

“Right, Arvaarad. Because your,” he broke off again, her words finally registering. _Evil_. For a time, Cullen had believed that all mages were evil, a breath away from making a deal with a demon and turning into an abomination. At times, he still fought with that image, the memories and the nightmares. But he knew, mages were not inherently evil. No more so than any other living being.

“It is the way of the Qun,” she repeated when he didn't continue. “An alliance would benefit the Inquisition,” she said, seemingly resolved in her decision, and then turned to go. Taashath paused with her hand on the door handle. “Thank you,” she told him, and Cullen watched her reach into her pocket and pull out a length of reed.

He felt his cheeks start to heat, but she was already out the door. Cullen wasn't sure why no one had considered it sooner, or why she hadn't simply asked. But no, he knew why she hadn't said anything. Because she wouldn't. He had a feeling that she could be on the verge of death, and she still wouldn't speak up, which he found very worrisome.

 


	3. Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once the choice is made, there is no turning back.

The decision had to be made and Taashath only had seconds. An alliance with the Qun. It would help the Inquisition, she couldn't deny that. She had been of the Qun her entire life. Up until a year ago, it was all she had known. She knew what she _should_ choose because the alliance was the wise choice. “Bull,” she said, watching the Venatori stalk across the beach.

“It's your call, Boss.”

The alliance or the Chargers. Iron Bull's men, who were loyal and fought well. “Sound the retreat,” she said, knowing the choice she'd made would have repercussions.

“Don't do this,” Gatt said, his voice almost a plea.

“Get your men out of there,” Taashath ordered voice a hard edge. She watched Bull sound the horn, the Chargers retreat and then they all watched the Dreadnought go up in flames. _One-hundred souls._ There had been a pressure in her chest from the moment Bull had mentioned the letter and the possible alliance. But now, as she watched it burn, the pressure seemed to lessen.

Leaving the Qun had not been her choice. Shokrakar and the Valo-Kas mercenaries had made that decision for her when they ambushed her kith. They had taken out Arvaarad first, used the control rod to disable her and killed everyone while she'd been utterly powerless. They had taken her from the only thing she knew and she had followed them because that was all she had done before. Now, others followed her. Obeyed her orders. It was terrifying and freeing all at the same time.

Taashath had finally made the choice. Not out of fear that they would kill her. Glancing down at her hand, the anchor that had thrust her into the spotlight among humans. She hadn't asked for it, hadn't wanted it. But it was hers now, regardless. She could no longer follow, she made the decision, her choice would be to lead.

Before leaving for the Storm Coast, her advisors had agreed that the alliance could be good for the Inquisition, but ultimately it was left to her to decide. How would they feel about this development? Taashath had come to realize that both Leliana and Cullen were of the mind that the lives of the many outweigh those of the few. Taashath knew this was war and sacrifices had to be made. But for her, it wasn't worth it. An alliance with the Qunari, the same people who would gladly see her dead, because of the evil that lived inside her, or the lives of a few good souls who didn't consider her a monster.

They left the Storm Coast immediately and rode as long as they could before they had to stop for the night. Camp was set up, the fire was built and Taashath sat beside it, slowly chewing on the tough bread they had for rations. Bull sunk down near her, and for a long time he didn't say anything, then finally, “why?” it was a simple question.

“Sataareth kadan hass-toh issala ebasit.” _It is my purpose to do what I must for those I consider important._ The Iron Bull gave a sharp nod, stood up and went and rejoined the chargers, the sounds of them all harassing each other, laughing and joking carried on the wind. She did not regret her decision.

 

Cullen frowned down at the letter in his hand. “Am I reading this correctly?” he glanced at Leliana who nodded, then Josephine who shrugged her shoulders. _There will be no alliance with the Qun_. What had happened? He couldn't help but wonder. Taashath had seemed resolved in her decision to go forward with the alliance. Truth be told, Cullen felt a little relieved, after the brutal events in Kirkwall, he'd been very leery of the idea of allying with them. “Well, that settles that, we did not need them. It could have been beneficial in some ways, but I believe it would have been more trouble than it would have been worth.”

“You may be right,” Leliana said with a frown, but he could tell she didn't believe it with the same conviction he did.

“It is possible that having the alliance with the Qun would have caused problems with future alliances.” Josephine, always the diplomat, he thought. Wouldn't want to risk offending anyone. He understood her reasoning, but this was a war, and they couldn't afford to coddle anyone, but this was one thing he agreed with her on. They were still trying to get into the Winter Palace, being allied to the Qun, while he imagined that Society would have been intrigued, they also might have made things harder.

The fact that the leader of the Inquisition was a mage and a Qunari made things difficult enough. Cullen rubbed his hand over his mouth, feeling the scratch of stubble against his palm and thought back to her asking him to teach her to read. A ridiculous notion. But if she still struggled with words by the time they arrived in Halamshiral, things would be exponentially more difficult for her.

It appeared that Cullen didn't have a choice.

 

The war room meeting had gone better than Taashath had expected upon their return from the Storm Coast. Leliana, Cullen and Josephine had all accepted her decision, no questions asked. Though what passed between the three of them when she was not there could be vastly different.

Up in her quarters, Taashath stripped out of her light armor, tugged on clean trousers and one of the button-down shirts she had become rather fond of in her time with the Inquisition. A frown settled on her face when she noticed a book sitting on her desk. One that had not been there before she'd departed. Crossing over, she eyed it suspiciously. The book was old, green cover faded, the edges a little frayed. Flipping it open a small slip of paper fell out but the images caught her attention and she quickly understood what the book was.

Picking up the slip of paper, the words made no sense, but at the bottom was the letter, C. _Cullen_ , she thought. Could have been Cole, but no, he wouldn't have just left it on her desk. The backs of her eyes burned suddenly and her throat felt tight. Cullen had told her he wouldn't teach her. But he had found her a book that would help her learn. She wanted to devour it right then, to curl up and stare at the pictures and the words and figure out what they all meant.

Instead, she had to go meet Solas who had offered to show her some different ways to hone her magic using a staff, which was something she had never used before and found them cumbersome. Taashath was more than willing to learn more, anything that could help her. He led her to the forge, where there were several staffs leaning against the wall. Some were simple, barely more than a broken branch, while others were topped with orbs, and figureheads.

Solas made her hold each one, twirl it, and focus her energy into it. At first, it had made her uncomfortable, but after a couple, she began to be able to _feel_ the magic within the staff. She could tell which ones favored ice magic, the ones that were bound with electricity gave her the feeling of a thunderstorm, only on her tongue. Fire, on the other hand, felt like _home_. It fit.

“I have a feeling you'll become most proficient in no time,” he reassured her as they headed out to the courtyard.

 


	4. Lessons

Solas had been right about one thing at least. The feel of the staff in her hand had become second nature, once she had finally relaxed, accepted it. It was an extension of her arm, she wielded it with ease. Out in a corner of the courtyard, where it was least likely to accidentally light a passerby on fire, Solas had stone targets set up for her. It was dark when Solas had finally urged her to rest, but she had been unable to sleep.

Taashath had lain in her makeshift bed and stared at the ceiling, still able to feel the flow of the magic through her veins. The harmony of it. It was something she'd never felt before. She had never known any sort of peace with her magic. She'd had duty, responsibility. But now... she lifted her hand, formed the flame in her hand with barely a thought. She _was_ magic. It wasn't a curse, she wouldn't treat it as such any longer.

After a while, she gave up on sleep and slunk down to the courtyard where she had practiced earlier. It was dark, there were the guards up on the ramparts, but the rest of Skyhold was quiet. She twirled the staff around her hand, then spun it between the two. The staff was long and sturdy, a well-worn twist of wood that wound around the golden yellow globe at the top, making it look as if it had grown that way. The opposite end held a blade, sharp and deadly.

She kept her spells small, casting little more than sparks. Taashath spun with the staff. Her body felt too bulky, too clumsy to be graceful. She couldn't move like Dorian or Solas. There was an elegance in the way they cast, one that she knew she would never have. Sweat rolled down her spine as she moved, repeating the same moves again and again until they felt smoother. Eventually, she stripped out of the button-down shirt, leaving her only in the thick material that crossed over her breasts and behind her neck.

Taashath continued, though the aches in her muscles and the weariness. She kept it up until people began to stir and the sun began to break over the horizon. Finally, Taashath tugged her shirt back on and slipped up to her quarters where she found the mug of porridge waiting for her, still steaming. She grabbed it and the book with the pictures and words along with a quill, a small pot of ink and some parchment and fled back down to her small secret room.

 

Cullen found her in that quiet room once again, sitting on the floor, hunched over the book. Her hair was pinned up part way with what he thought might have been a quill, though it was haphazard and locks of hair had slipped free. She looked even more engrossed than she had the first time he'd found her. He leaned against the door frame and just watched her for a moment, caught off guard by something, though he wasn't quite sure what.

He had watched her the night before, the flashes of light caught his attention, and curiosity had gotten the best of him, so he'd stepped out onto the battlement to see. Cullen had noticed her earlier, out in that same place practicing with Solas. Her spells were quiet, little flickers of light, like fireflies.

There was little light in the corner where she practiced, but her hair shone brilliantly in the moonlight, and occasionally he caught glimpses of her flashes of fire. At one point he thought she was stopping, going back in, but after a moment she started again, and much to his chagrin, he realized she'd stripped out of her shirt, he knew he should look away, but there was something enthralling in the way she danced with her magic.

She shifted now, reached for the mug at her elbow and took a long drink through the straw. He felt his chest swell with unwarranted pride at that, glad that she was eating. She returned the mug to the crate beside her and Cullen realized her shirt had several buttons unfastened, revealing the swell of breast bound with a deep red fabric that he couldn't help but think looked good against her bare skin.

His cheeks flamed hot. Maker's breath, he was ogling her. “My lady,” he said, breaking his gaze away from her breasts.

She jerked in surprise, sat up straighter and his eyes went back to the exposed flesh before he forced himself to meet her gold eyes. “Commander,” she said, then held up the book. “Thank you,” she told him, her voice full of sincerity.

“You need to learn,” he said crossing the room to her where he sat down on the other side of the crate again. “How is it going?”

She frowned, turned and laid the book on the table and it took all of Cullen's willpower not to let his eyes slide down to her unbuttoned shirt. She pursed her lips, brow furrowed and then she sighed. “Slow.” Taashath showed him the slip of paper she'd tried writing out words on, but it made Cullen frown, and wonder if he shouldn't have started her out with the alphabet. Suddenly she was pulling the book back into her lap and shaking her head. “It's... fine. I can...” she pursed her lips. “I can learn.”

Ducking her head, she hunched over the book, again and again, Cullen's back ached just looking at her. He watched her for a moment, watched the way she tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear as she focused so intently on the book. Without taking a second to consider his actions, he reached across the crate, plucked the quill from her hair. Watched it tumble down her back and she looked up at him startled.

Those gold eyes watching him, warily. Cullen drew out a fresh sheet of parchment and dipped the nib in the ink. “I should have thought of this sooner, but it has been quite a while since I learned my letters. The alphabet first.” He wrote down the first letter of the alphabet, upper case and lower, watched her shift, set aside the book and then she turned, rested her elbows on the edge of crate, the unbuttoned shirt caught his eye again, the way she sat pushed her breasts up, and Cullen felt the blush creeping up his neck and was grateful for the dim lighting.

Taashath shook her head, reached out, her fingers curling around the quill. “No, you-you are busy. I can learn.”

Her fingers were warm against his, long and surprisingly soft. “You will learn,” he said, not releasing the quill. “I am going to help.”

She shook her head again. “You said no,” she reminded him, tugged on the quill.

“And now, I say yes.” She stared at him for several long moments, refusing the break eye contact. As if she was searching for the reason he'd changed his mind. Honestly, Cullen didn't even know why he'd changed his mind. He still believed that Iron Bull or Leliana would be better, even Josephine, but it was clear, that Taashath wasn't going to ask for help from them. “Let me help,” he said softly.

Taashath pursed her lips, then slowly released the quill. “Okay,” she nodded her head. The corner of his mouth twisted into a half smile. About time, he thought, and their lesson began. He wrote out the letters for her, telling her which they were, letting her repeat it until she was ready for the next. Then he gave her the quill back and had her write them, as they went over them again.

“You catch on quick,” Cullen said after they had gone through them a few times and she'd been able to remember with very little help.

“Why?” she asked him, gestured to the papers and the book. “You are busy.”

“You need to learn,” he said. “Halamshiral, the Winter Palace, all those Orlesians. They won't be kind, my lady.” It was a hard truth, and he didn't want her going in there ill-prepared.

“Not many are kind to Qunari,” she admitted with a shrug. “Thank you,” she touched the book. “I am... grateful.”

Cullen reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. “You are welcome. I am glad to help. But I should return to my own duties. Tomorrow morning? We'll meet here again.” Taashath only thought it over for a moment before nodding her head in agreement. “Good,” Cullen said, inclined his head and then left the room.

 

Taashath watched him go, genuinely curious as to what had changed Cullen's mind. She didn't mind, she was grateful for the lesson. She stared at the letters, his neat handwriting next to her scratch and frowned. She still had time, she thought before she needed to meet with Solas again. Picking the quill up once more, she was determined to make her handwriting clearer, neater.

She didn't want to stop writing, but her hand was cramping, fingers aching from holding the quill. There was even a blister forming on her finger. Taashath set down her quill and lightly touched the cover of the book before pushing up to her feet. She tugged at the bottom of her shirt and froze, mortification washing over her. She'd still been hot and sweaty from her exertions practicing with her staff when she'd slipped into the room, and knowing she'd be alone, she'd unbuttoned the shirt.

Cullen had looked, how could he not have? She pressed her face into her hands, feeling the heat flushing her face. Most Qunari were not ashamed of their bodies. Males had seen her body before since Saarebas were not allowed to be alone, that included bathing. They would watch, devoid of any emotion, any reaction as she bathed, those few moments that seemed so rare when the mask was lifted from her eyes, the collar released. The chains would still encircle her wrists, heavy weights that clattered with each movement. She enjoyed those fleeting moments and dreaded them at the same time.

Human modesty was something she had quickly fallen in line with. The solitude and privacy. Quickly she buttoned her shirt, before stepping out of the room to retrieve her staff and find Solas. Why hadn't Cullen said anything? She wondered. B _ecause you have embarrassed yourself enough in front of him already._

After her lesson with Solas, she ducked back into her secret room, wanting to retrieve her book. Taashath froze. Stepped back out of the room and glanced up and down the hallway, wondering if she'd stepped into the wrong room. But no, her crate, the parchment and quill lay beside the snuffed out candle and her book along with her forgotten mug from that morning. But beside the crate was a chair. Not a hard-backed wooden chair. It was bigger, looked padded with thick cushions and was covered in a dark brown material that when she finally stepped into the room and crossed over to it, was the softest leather she'd ever felt.

A piece of paper sat on the arm of the chair, words she couldn't read. But signed with a letter C.

 


	5. Wait

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly cannot thank those of you who have left feedback enough, it means SO much to me. I'm so pleased to know that people have been enjoying it so far, and I really hope that I don't disappoint!

The next few days proceeded much the same. Cullen brought a wooden chair to sit in as they went over her letters and then moved on to learning the words. Taashath spent time with both Solas and Dorian, who both taught her different things and different ways and she was so grateful for them both. She began speaking more, the words in common coming easier, though she still stumbled over them often.

News of a fresh batch of bandits out in the Hinterlands pulled her away from Skyhold. Iron Bull, Blackwall and Cole accompanied her and they dealt with them easily enough. Each night, beside the fire, she sat with her notebook, and the book Cullen had given her and she went over them again and again, until her fingers ached and her eyes lost focus. She hoped she had made progress while being away from Skyhold. Taashath wanted to prove that Cullen's time away from his own duties to help her weren't a waste.

“My lady,” Blackwall said, walking over to sit near her. “Hard at work again, I see,” he said gesturing to her books. “May I ask what you're working on?”

“Oh,” she ducked her head and closed the book. “Nothing, It is not important,” she told him.

“Doesn't seem like nothing. You've been at it every night since we left Skyhold.”

“It isn't important,” she told him again, feeling embarrassed. What would the people who followed her orders think of her, if they knew she couldn't even read?

Blackwall reached up and rubbed a hand over his bearded mouth. “My apologies. I didn't mean to disturb you. I had just- Maker's balls,” he muttered and then he stood up and walked away.

A soft sound beside her made her glance over and she saw Cole, peering at her through pale blonde hair beneath his wide hat. “Like smoke, the way she moves, the way she is. Could never hold her. Never good enough. Not worthy. She deserves better. Wouldn't want an old man anyway.”

Taashath glanced over at Blackwall's tent and frowned. Cole confused her when he did things like that. “Cole,” she murmured, rubbing her fingers against her forehead. “You can't just-”

“He wouldn't care that you can't read. He would help like Cullen does.”

She sighed, closed her eyes and gave up. “Thank you, Cole,” she told him because she knew he wanted to help.

“He watches, transfixed, fireflies and moonlight. He knows he shouldn't look, but he does.” There was a long silence, and Taashath opened her eyes, glanced over to where Cole was only to find him gone. She was grateful for the reprieve. She liked the boy, but couldn't deny the fact that she was a bit uncomfortable around him sometimes. It was so easy for him to dip into someone's mind.

_Fireflies and moonlight_ , the words sounded so pretty. _She_ was fireflies and moonlight? A ridiculous notion. She knew that Blackwall spent much of his time in the stables, and she had been practicing near there. Heat flushed her skin as she thought of stripping out of her top as she'd practiced. He'd watched? Tucking her books away, she slipped into her tent and curled up on her side, adjusting the pillow to keep her horn from digging into the ground.

 

“Why did you change your mind about the alliance with the Qun?” Cullen had been wondering since they'd gotten word, but as they had all agreed it was her decision, she was the Inquisitor, no one had asked. It was late evening, Cullen had a small plate of food he was picking at and Taashath had her mug she was sipping from. She had only returned from the Hinterlands early that morning.

“It was a choice,” she told him, staring down at the pages of the book.

“You had seemed set on the alliance. I'm not saying I disagree with your choice, I'm just curious.”

Taashath looked up, gold eyes meeting his. “It wasn't my choice to leave the Qun,” she said. He remembered her telling him that. The Valo-Kas mercenaries had made it impossible for her to return and live. “This was my choice.” She reached up and touched the corner of her mouth. “The Chargers would have died. The Qun would have sacrificed them. I-” she pursed her lips. “I couldn't.”

Cullen rubbed his hand over his jaw as he watched her. She had ducked her head again, eyes focused on the words in the book. “For what it's worth,” he said softly. “I think you made the right decision.”

She lifted her head up again, this time the corner of her mouth lifted into just a hint of a smile. “Thank you for that, Commander. Thank you for everything,” she said, tapping the book.

He had never seen her smile. He was taken aback by the way it softened her features, even with how small it had been. Cullen couldn't imagine she'd had much to smile about before, bound and leashed as a Saarebas. But now that she was free of that life, maybe she would smile more? He hoped so. “You-you're welcome,” he finally managed out, realizing he was staring. “You've caught on brilliantly, I imagine you'll be reading Varric's terrible novels in no time.”

There it was again, that slight curve of her lips. “Seeker Cassandra doesn't seem to think they are so terrible. Though she did tell me that I should not read them, because they are...” her brow furrowed as she searched for the word. “Smutty? But I don't know what that means.”

Cullen's cheeks flamed hot and he coughed, silently sending up a prayer that Taashath didn't ask him what that meant. But of course, she did. With wide-eyed innocence. “Sex,” he said, coughed again and rubbed the back of his neck, feeling as if the room had suddenly grown twenty degrees hotter. “It means sex.”

“Oh,” it was a breath of sound. “I- oh.” Taashath kept her head ducked down low, but he could see her chewing on her lower lip. “The Iron Bull offered, but I...” she trailed off, peeked up at him. “Is sex... nice?”

The air had been sucked out of his lungs. Cullen stared at her, uncomprehending. She hadn't asked him that. He had imagined it. Iron Bull had offered? Offered what exactly? “Maker's breath,” he breathed out.

“That was a question I shouldn't have asked,” she said softly. “I am sorry, I-” she broke off, closed the book and twisted the cap on the bottle of ink. “I didn't mean to. Things are different. I'll ask The Iron Bull.”

Cullen's hand shot out and curled around her wrist when he knew she would have stood up, fled. “Wait,” he said. She did, with her head bowed, not looking at him. Maker's breath, he should let her go, let her go to Bull, but he couldn't make himself let go. “You've never had sex?” he nearly choked on the words.

Taashath shook her head. “No,” she told him, still staring down at the crate. “Saarebas are not allowed. Wouldn't want to accidentally breed more Saarebas.”

It was none of his business. Cullen's thumb rested on the inside of her wrist, he could feel her pulse hammering through her veins, or was it his own? “So you've never been touched? Kissed?” Wordlessly she shook her head and he felt her break out in goosebumps beneath his fingers. “It is nice,” he told her, voice low. Her head lifted just slightly, gaze meeting his through thick lashes. “It can be much more than nice.”

Mages within the Circle were not forbidden from having relations and it happened, even with the Templars, living in such close proximity. He couldn't begin to imagine what it would be like to have all touch, any pleasure, be prohibited.

The door banged open, and both Cullen and Taashath jerked their hands away from each other, as a couple of scouts, locked in an embrace stumbled through the doorway. Cullen stood up, clearing his throat. The duo practically leapt apart, then began stumbling over their words as they tried to explain what they were doing. “Maker's breath,” Cullen sighed, rubbing his hand against his forehead. “I don't care what you do in your off time. Just don't do it in here!”

The two fled from the room and Cullen turned back to see Taashath push up to her feet. “I should go as well,” she told him, not meeting his gaze. “I'm supposed to be practicing with Dorian today.”

“Of course,” Cullen said, trying to straighten himself out, trying to ignore the arousal that had begun to flow through his blood. She walked past him and Cullen reached out, fingers gently grasping her arm. “My lady,” he said, and for reasons he couldn't begin to explain to himself, he continued, “don't take The Iron Bull up on his offer.”

Taashath didn't say anything, she simply stared at him for a few moments before he released her and she walked out the door. She wasn't sure what to make of that. She knew that Cullen, a former Templar, had issues with Mages, didn't trust them. He had greatly opposed her decision to ask the mages for help with sealing the Breach. Was he concerned she would become pregnant and there would be a risk of yet another mage in the world?

She touched her fingers to the inside of her wrist, where he had held her arm. His touch had been gentle, it had made her heart pound in her chest, calloused fingers lightly rubbing against the delicate skin. The couple who has stumbled into the room, lips touching, hands roving, had caused her heart to beat even faster. She wanted to know what that would be like. Iron Bull had been willing, maybe she would take him up on the offer, despite the Commander's objections.

 


	6. Defense

Cullen had said nothing in regards to their conversation about sex, in the days since. When they had returned to their lessons, it was as if it had never happened. Taashath still wasn't sure what to make of it. She hadn't sought The Iron Bull out but had found herself hyper-aware of other people and how they interacted. Simple touches. A hand on a shoulder. Fingers laced together. A quick peck on the lips. A woman crawling into the lap of another, tongues tangling. Heat flushed her skin as she tried not to stare.

Her own fingers touched her lips lightly and her skin suddenly felt too tight. She spotted The Iron Bull, who was sitting at a table with the Chargers, all who were alive and well, laughing, jostling each other, reaffirming that she believed she'd made the right choice. Taashath could feel energy burning beneath her skin and quickly ducked back out of the tavern.

There were arrangements being made, she knew, to prepare for their departure to Halamshiral and the Winter Palace. The chaos wrought by Empress Celene's death could not be allowed to happen, no matter how uncomfortable she was with the idea of walking among the Orlesians and trying to play the game, which she didn't know the rules of.

She made her way across the courtyard, toward the corner where she'd been practicing her magic. It was quiet save for the rhythmic sound of someone chopping wood. She stepped around the corner and stilled. Blackwall was there, axe in hand, setting a log onto the chopping block. He wore only a pair of black trousers that sat low on his hips and she could see the muscles of his back move as he raised the axe up, then brought it down with a solid thunk.

Several minutes passed before he paused, glanced over his shoulder and spotted her. “My lady,” he said, inclining his head.

Taashath ducked her head, embarrassed that she'd been caught staring. “Blackwall,” she said. “I didn't mean to interrupt, I had just meant to practice,” she told him, gesturing to the stone blocks Solas had set up.

“Of course,” he said, inclining his head. “Don't let me stop you. I can stop this if you'd like, or,” he paused. “I've seen you using your staff to take out anyone who got too close. Care to spar a bit?”

_It wouldn't hurt_ , she thought. It happened, a warrior or a rogue managed to get past their defences, and she'd been knocked back a time or two. While the wicked blade on the end of her staff helped, having someone to spar with would give her a better idea of how to defend against that. “Yes,” she said. “Please, I would appreciate that.”

She saw the look of surprise on his face, Blackwall hadn't thought she'd agree? Taashath thought back to their last fumbled conversation, when he'd asked her what she was doing, and to Cole's words. Blackwall had watched her, he... wanted her? “Let me go grab my staff,” she told him and quickly walked away. It only took a few minutes, she grabbed her staff and twisted her loose hair into a braid to keep it out of the way before she went back down to the stables, where Blackwall had donned a shirt, and instead of his actual sword he held a wooden one.

“Wouldn't want to actually cause any damage,” he told her as they headed for the corner.

“Thank you,” she nodded. “I'll try not to light your beard on fire.”

His laughter was rich, a deep chuckle that warmed her insides. “I'd appreciate that, my lady, unless you're not fond of it. But I'd sooner just shave it off, rather than have it burnt off.”

Taashath stared at him for a moment, tried to imagine him without the beard, then shook her head. “No, leave it, it suits you.”

Blackwall inclined his head. “As the lady wishes, shall we?”

 

A bead of sweat rolled down her throat, her hair had begun to come loose from her braid and strands stuck to her face. Blackwall looked as worn as she did, but he hadn't yielded, and neither had she. They had knocked each other down a few times and Taashath was glad to know that should she exhaust her mana, she'd at least still have a fighting chance.

She recognized the next move too late, she didn't have a chance to block, her muscles tired. Taashath was falling, but she wouldn't go down alone. She caught Blackwall's arm with her staff, saw the surprise in his eyes as they fell. “Maker's balls,” Blackwall rasped, his weight a heavy pressure on her stomach, his face pressed against her breasts. “Apologies, my lady,” he groaned, rolling off her with a wheezing breath.

They lay there panting, their legs tangled together, staring up at the sky. Taashath could barely breathe, could hear each of Blackwall's labored breaths beside her. She wasn't sure she could move, let alone speak. A shadow fell over her and she shifted her gaze, met Cullen's dark gaze. The man did not look happy. His hands were on his hips and for some reason, it made her want to smile.

A giggle escaped her lips and she reached up, clamping her hand over her mouth. Cullen's eyes widened for a second, he looked startled. Another giggle escaped and she pressed her fingers harder against her mouth, trying to stifle it.

“Inquisitor, are you alright?” Cullen asked, crouching down beside her, a leather gloved hand touched the side of her face and he frowned. “Did you hit your head?”

She shook her head, or at least tried to, only to discover that she couldn't move. “No,” she managed to get out around the giggle that she couldn't control. Blackwall had disentangled his legs and crouched on her other side.

“I don't think I've ever seen her smile before,” Blackwall commented.

Taashath couldn't remember having ever smiled before, let alone laughed, and now that she'd started she couldn't stop. “I'm stuck,” she choked out, her hand going back to her horns that had impaled into the soft earth at her head.

Cullen stared down at Taashath, not understanding what she had found so funny. He had been returning to his office when he'd glanced over to see her sparring with Blackwall. The two had been so fluid in their movements, he wondered how long they had been at it, and if they hadn't done this many times before. An unwelcome tightness had blossomed in his chest, but he'd watched, transfixed. Until they had fallen.

The next thing Cullen had known he'd been standing over Taashath, taking her in appearance. She looked exhausted, chest heaving with each breath, hair plastered to her forehead. Then she met his gaze and laughed. “Taashath,” he said and she blinked at him, her laughter abruptly cutting off.

“No one has called me that since I came here,” she murmured, brow furrowing. Cullen frowned, most had addressed her as Herald, or now, Inquisitor. “Help me up,” she said, holding her hands out. Blackwall grasped one, while Cullen took the other, but then he slipped his other hand beneath her head, wedging it into the space between her skull and the ground.

“One, two, three-”

Taashath grunted quietly, twisting her head, as the two men helped free her. Once she was sitting up, Cullen cupped her face, looked into her eyes, still not sure she hadn't hit her head. “What were you thinking?” he demanded, of Blackwall, not Taashath. “You could have hurt her,” he chastised.

“Have you looked at her?” Blackwall countered. “She's fully capable of taking care of herself. We were sparring, so she'd have an option other than just her magic when we're out there fighting against demons and bandits and-”

“I'm fine,” Taashath interrupted, not sure why the two were bickering so. The two had always been friendly before. “Commander, I am fine. It was my fault, I lost focus-”

Cullen finally let go, satisfied that she didn't have a concision, but he would still see that she saw a healer, just in case. He stood up and glared at Blackwall. “She is a mage. They are not meant for full contact sparring.”

“It was an accident. I didn't mean to hit her that hard, but it wasn't the first time I knocked her down or the first time she took me down either. We were sparring, Commander, you know full well what that entails-”

“Not for mages,” he ground out between clenched teeth.

Taashath sat there, between the two quarrelling men, unsure of what to do. Part of her wanted to wrap a hand around each of their ankle and either yank as hard as she could, to knock them down, or light their pants on fire. She glanced around, noticed that they had quite the audience that seemed to be growing by the minute.

Pressing her palms together, she created a spark, nothing to do damage, it would be like fireworks. She sent it straight up, it flared between the two men and she watched Blackwall lean back slightly, while Cullen stumbled backwards several steps. “Would the two of you stop, please?” she asked. “I'm fine.”

“Very well,” Cullen said then turned and walked away.

Blackwall crouched back down beside her as the crowd dispersed. “Are you alright my lady? I truly did not mean to knock you down.”

“Embarrassed, not hurt,” she admitted, then allowed him to help her back up to her feet. “Thank you, Blackwall, I apologize for,” she trailed off, glancing up at Cullen's office. “I don't know why-” she broke off with a sigh. She didn't know a lot of things.

“I bet I could guess,” Blackwall said and she looked at him curiously, but he just shook his head. “Another time, maybe,” he said and headed into the barn.

Resigned, Taashath left the courtyard. She'd need a bath, sweat had cooled and she shivered as she headed for her quarters.

 

Cullen gripped the edge of his desk, trying to quell the shaking of his hands. He could still feel Taashath's magic, taste it on his tongue like the air before a lightning storm. He knew she'd done it as a distraction, the spell had no power behind it, all flash and light, like when he'd watched her practice in the dark. _Fireflies_. But this had been close, too close. He cursed softly, under his breath.

_You don't know her well enough to know she wouldn't use her magic against you or anyone in the Inquisition_. He didn't like the thought, slammed his hand hard against the edge of his desk. “She is the Inquisitor,” he ground out between clenched teeth. _She is a Qunari_. “She made a choice. Decided against the alliance.” _It could be a lie_.

“No,” he told himself, drawing in a deep breath. “No. She has done nothing to warrant those thoughts.” _She used magic against you_. “No, she didn't.” _Take the lyrium, just in case. What if she does it again?_ “No,” he ground out but found himself reaching for the drawer where he kept it. “No,” he said again, jerking away from the desk. He stormed out of his office and down to where the troops were resting, and silently hoped they were up for the run he was going to put them all through.

 


	7. Assassins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've been Hmm and Hawing about this chapter... I'm not entirely sure I'm completely happy with it, but it's making my eyeballs hurt looking at it.

Cullen was in a foul mood and everyone in Skyhold was aware of it. Taashath had been disappointed the first morning that Cullen hadn't shown up for their unofficial reading and writing lessons. Then she had heard the whispers.

 

“ _The Inquisitor used magic against the Commander.”_

 

“ _Used to be a Templar.”_

 

“ _Kinloch Hold, he survived. That kind of torture does things to a man.”_

 

“ _He was in Kirkwall. When those Ox-men came.”_

 

At first, she wanted to correct them. She'd never used magic against him. It had been all flash. But as the whispers continued she'd begun to wonder if that wasn't why he had started seeking her out. Mage. Qunari. Judging from what she'd heard, they were two of the things he'd have the biggest problem with. Maybe he'd wanted to see if he could trust her. Had her stunt proved that he couldn't?

 

Did he think she'd used magic against him the way everyone said? A tightness wrapped around her chest and wouldn't let up. But he was a Templar, surely he could tell the difference between an empty spark and a full-blown spell. She had been beginning to think that maybe they might be friends or at least more than just acquaintances. Taashath had planned to seek him out, find him and apologize. But each time she'd gone to look for him he had been out, running the troops ragged.

 

 _My fault_ , she thought. The tightness in her chest getting worse and worse.

 

 

Three days. The soldiers had done their best to stay out of his way for the last three days. Tried not to provoke his temper. But it was a useless cause. Cullen had barely slept, and when he had the nightmares had been there, dragging him slowly but surely back to Kinloch Hold. He had not sought out Taashath in that quiet room where he helped her learn to read. The memory of her magic too fresh in his mind. It had become a nightly battle with his own mind against taking the lyrium. He had come this far, he couldn't give up now.

 

Ducking out of his office he made his way across the stone passage to the opposite tower. He had a report he wanted to discuss with Leliana. A glint of silver hair caught his eye. It was loose and the breeze caught it, making it dance. He stood, transfixed for several moments. Cullen found himself wondering where she was heading. To Blackwall maybe? It had been impossible to miss the way the man had looked at her - and it was none of his business.

 

“Hey, Boss,” Iron Bull's voice carried across the courtyard. She turned to him, her hands on her hips, they spoke for a moment, then she followed him into the tavern and Cullen felt his cheeks flush. Had she taken him up on his offer? _I asked her not to_ , he thought. _Why? Do you want her? No, no, of course not_. He glanced back to the tavern where they had disappeared, and couldn't ignore the tightness in his chest as he continued across the walkway.

 

Going up to the top of the tower, Cullen discovered that Leliana was not there, which was all the better. His head was beginning to throb, making it hard to focus, so he left the report on her desk and made his way back down to the walkway. Stepping through the doorway, he spotted Taashath and Iron Bull on the rampart not far from his office. He frowned. Taashath was leaning against the stone wall, arms across her chest, and Iron Bull stood just a short distance away.

 

The door behind him opened, two Inquisition scouts stepped out. It took seconds for his brain to register what was happening. The two scouts drew weapons and launched themselves at Bull. Cullen frowned, not understanding. He saw blood on Iron Bull's shoulder. The door on the opposite end opened, another scout stepped through, and Taashath turned. Cullen didn't stop to think about his actions, or what was happening, he just ran.

 

A scream was cut off moments after it started, just as Cullen pushed open the door. Smoke and fire stung his eyes. Taashath stood on the other side of it. Bile rose in his throat as his mind was back at Kinloch Hold, the desire demon smiled at him. _“Come now, I can make it all better,” she murmured, stepping around the body of one of his fallen comrades. Her body shifted, transformed and she looked like the elven mage who had caught his eye. “I'll give you everything you want, and make you forget all these terrible things. I'll be your wife, we'll have beautiful children, and we can be happy.”_

 

Then he was back in Skyhold. Taashath was looking at him, for just a moment before she stepped back. He watched her press her hand to her side, saw the blood stain rapidly growing on her stomach, she staggered, and Cullen lurched forward but knew he was too far away to catch her before she fell. A loud crack rent the air as she fell, then Cullen hit his knees beside her. “Maker's breath,” he rasped. Her eyes were slits, all he could see was white and she was convulsing.

 

Her blood was hot beneath his hands as he slid his hand along her side to find the injury. Iron Bull was cursing as he finished off the other scout. “Fuck,” he dragged out the word. “Didn't think they'd go after her. Fuck!” Then he was gone and Cullen stared down at her.

 

His mind was still playing catch up. “Taasha,” he kept one hand tight against her side, reached up to cup her face with the other, blood smeared across her cheek.

 

Iron Bull was on her other side a few moments later. “Here, fuck,” he ground out again. “Poison. Fucking poisoned knife.” Iron Bull cupped the back of Taashath's head, lifted it up just enough and poured the vial into her mouth. Then he clamped his hand over her mouth and nose until she'd swallowed it. “Take a couple more doses, and she'll feel like shit, but she'll be fine.”

 

“If she doesn't bleed to death first,” Cullen said, feeling the blood seeping between his fingers with each beat of his heart.

 

“I got her,” Bull said, lifting Taashath up into his arms as if she weighed nothing. Cullen followed quickly after. They found the healer, and once Taashath was laid out on a cot the woman went to work on her. Cullen watched anxiously as they tore open her shirt, to reveal the wound. It was small, it didn't look like it should be bleeding as much as it was.

 

He reached up to rub his hand over his mouth then froze. His hands were coated with her blood. “The poison makes the blood run thinner. Won't clot.”

 

Cullen glanced over at Iron Bull, noticed the blood slowly oozing down his arm. “You were stabbed,” he commented.

 

“I was dosing myself with the antidote. She's already fucking Tal-Vashoth. They never should have touched her. It was a message for me. I'm Tal-Va-fucking-shoth. I'm going to get more of the antidote,” he spat and stormed away. Cullen watched, knowing there was nothing he could do.

 

Time dragged on. The healers finished patching Taashath up, and Iron Bull carried the very groggy woman up to her quarters.

 

“How did this happen?” Josephine hissed, low and angry as they stood at the top of the stairs to Taashath's room.

 

“I will find out,” Leliana said quietly, but Cullen heard her fury.

 

 

Hours had passed and Cullen once again found himself stepping into Taashath's room. Just to see if she had awoken. He glanced to the bed where she still lay, a light blanket draped over her. They hadn't replaced her shirt, and she lay there in just her breast band, the dark red fabric a slash against her skin like blood. He glanced down at his hands, he'd washed them, but her blood had settled into his knuckles and beneath his nails.

 

Crossing the room, he sunk down on the edge of the bed and looked down at the fractured piece of her horn he'd found when he'd returned to the scene of the attempted assassination. He remembered the sound of something breaking, had worried what it was for a moment before Taashath had begun to convulse. More than half of her horn had snapped off. Cullen had asked Iron Bull if anything could be done, but the man had shaken his head.

 

“ _Nah, Tal-Vashoth cut them off sometimes. They won't grow back.”_

 

There was a quiet sound behind him, and Cullen looked over his shoulder. “What are you doing here, Commander?” she asked, voice scratchy and raw.

 

“How are you feeling?” he asked her, tucking the broken horn into his pocket and out of sight.

 

“Like I was stabbed and poisoned,” she deadpanned. “Why are you here?”

 

Cullen looked down at his hands because he didn't know. He had been worried about her. But the healers had said it might take her a few days to fully recover, but she'd be fine. “I came to check on you,” he finally admitted.

 

“Wanted to be sure the mage isn't about to turn into an abomination?” He flinched because Andraste preserve him, his mind kept overlaying the image of that damned desire demon over Taashath's face. “It's alright, Commander. I will behave myself. I shouldn't have used my magic the way I did the other day between you and Blackwall. I know that you don't approve of magic.”

 

 _Where had she learned that?_ He wondered. “I don't know what you're talking about,” he lied.

 

“I saw your face when you walked through that door. It is true. Mages are dangerous things.”

 

“That isn't-”

 

“You don't need to explain yourself to me, Commander,” she turned onto her side and Cullen rested his head in his hands. He couldn't deny the fact that seeing Taashath through that wall of flame had sent him spiralling back in time to Kinloch Hold, and it was obvious Taashath could see it. He stood up, silently left her room and went down to the kitchens to fetch Taashath a mug of water.

 

When he returned, she was gone. Frowning deeply, Cullen wondered where she might have gone. Her secret room, he thought and turned to go find her when he noticed the door to the storage closet was open a crack and it hadn't been open earlier. It was dark, but he could see the ladder. With a frown, he climbed up the first few rungs until he could see what was at the top of the platform.

 

Taashath lay on her side, a thin pillow folded under her head, a worn blanket pulled up around her. He stared, stunned for several long moments. Why did she choose to sleep there? Had she been sleeping up in the cramped loft since they had arrived at Skyhold? Silently, he descended the ladder and left her room. Maker's breath, he hadn't realized his aversion to her had been so obvious. They needed to talk, but it would have to wait.

 


	8. Touch

It hurt to realize that she had been right. That the whispers had been right. But Taashath knew she had other things to worry about that were far more important than whether or not the Commander _liked_ her. She had tried to talk to Iron Bull, it was her fault after all, that he was no Tal-Vashoth. It had been her decision that sealed his fate and he had brushed it off like it was nothing. It hadn't been for her, but maybe it was for him. Or maybe Hissrad was still lying.

 

Her side still ached and she felt lopsided. Absently, she reached up to touch the end of her broken horn. Yet another thing she didn't have time to worry about. “Josephine,” Taashath said as she stepped into her office. “I was hoping you could...help.” Truthfully she was afraid that when they arrived at Halamshiral, attended the Winter Palace, she would mess up everything. So much was riding on things going right.

 

Taashath remembered all too clearly what could happen if Empress Celene died. The journey into the future had been disconcerting at the very least. Utterly terrifying. She would do everything in her power to prevent that from happening.

 

 

“You look like you could use a drink, my lady,” Blackwall said, setting a mug down in front of her.

 

Taashath looked up from the notebook on the table in front of her. She'd found a quiet corner on the second floor of the tavern and had been going over the notes she'd taken on her lesson with Josephine on proper etiquette and things she should and should definitely _not_ do while at the Winter Palace. “Oh, thank you,” she said.

 

“I didn't mean to interrupt,” he said, gesturing to her notebook. “I heard about the incident with the assassins, and I just wanted to-” he broke off and rubbed his hand over his beard. “I'll let you get back to,” he waved his hand at the table and took a step back.

 

“Wait, Blackwall,” she clearly remembered their fumbling conversation before. It was clear that people were afraid of her, because of who and what she was, and she needed to change that. “Please, join me,” Taashath reached across the table and patted it. She saw the surprise in his eyes, and he set down his own drink before sinking into a chair across from her. “In response to your earlier question, I'm fine. A little sore, a lot angry, but fine.” She watched his gaze stray to her horn, or rather, the lack of, and reached up to trace her fingers over the ragged end again.

 

“It's hardly noticeable,” he commented, lifting his mug to take a drink.

 

A hint of a smile curved her lips as she reached for the mug he'd brought her and took a drink. “You're a terrible liar, Blackwall.” He coughed, sputtered into his drink. “But thank you, all the same.” Taashath glanced down at her notebook, then back at Blackwall. “I asked Josephine for help in not making a fool of myself when we go to Halamshiral. There is so much riding on this,” she sighed quietly.

 

“I'm sure you'll do fine,” he told her, reaching across the table to rest his hand over hers.

 

His hand was warm over hers, she could feel the callouses of the work-roughened palm. Like the Commanders, but different. She thought of Cullen's fingers curling around her wrist, it had been a gentle hold, one she easily could have broken, yet she'd been held absolutely captive by it. Blackwall started to withdraw his hand, but Taashath reached out, caught it. “Wait,” she said softly, curled her own hand around his wrist, after a moment his fingers wrapped around her wrist in kind.

 

It felt nice, she thought, staring down at their hands, broad fingers, dirt under his nails and in the cracks of his skin. But it didn't quicken her pulse. It didn't make it hard to breathe. She glanced up, met his gaze and he was watching her curiously. “My lady?”

 

“Sorry,” she felt her cheeks heat up and withdrew her hand as she ducked her head.

 

“Don't apologize,” he said. “I'm,” he cleared his throat. “Touching you isn't a hardship,” he finally managed to get out.

 

Taashath tried to imagine what it would be like, having him touching her. Rough fingers over secret places, but she had no point of reference. Maybe she would talk to Iron Bull, after all, just to have it over and done with. Maybe then she could focus properly on more important things. “You're not afraid of my magic,” she said after a long silence.

 

“I have no reason to be,” he said with a shrug of his broad shoulders. “I've seen you use it, never against anyone innocent. You've only acted against those aiming to do harm to you, or harming others.”

 

“Most don't feel that way,” she murmured.

 

“Most are idiots.” Another small twist of a smile, she took a drink from her mug and saw Blackwall grin at her. “Wish you'd smile more often, and that laugh of yours, it's something amazing.”

 

Taashath's head started to feel a little fuzzy after the second mug of ale, so she didn't object when Blackwall ordered food, even though she knew her jaw would ache and she wouldn't be able to finish it. They chatted, he told her about his time in the Hinterlands before she'd found him and they talked about things that still needed to be done. It was nice, she thought. Amicable.

 

They parted ways and Taashath spotted Iron Bull sitting alone downstairs. Just get it over with, she thought, heading for him. It wouldn't mean anything, but what did that matter? It didn't have to mean anything. Cullen had said sex was nice. Could be more than nice. “Boss,” Bull said as she approached.

 

“Got a minute?” she asked. “I would like to talk to you, alone.”

 

“Sure,” he said, standing up. Taashath knew she was a big woman, Qunari just were. She stood taller than everyone, save for Iron Bull. She followed him through the tavern and into his quarters then he just looked at her, waiting.

 

“I want sex,” she said, “you offered, I would like-” He moved so fast she didn't register it. Iron Bull's hands caught her wrists and pinned them to the wall he had backed her against. She felt her pulse spike and she stared at him, lips parted and she could feel his breath on her face as he leaned his face down close to hers.

 

“A quick, hard fuck against the wall? Long and slow? We do this my way, Boss. I can show you everything there is to know, everything you missed out on.”

 

Taashath stared up at him in the dark room and suddenly regretted her choice. “No,” her voice came out smaller than she'd meant it to. She hadn't gotten far into Varric's book, but wasn't there supposed to be heat? All she felt was the cold of the stone wall against her back and the unyielding grip of his hands on her wrists. “I was wrong.” He released her, took a step back and she nearly stumbled. “I'm sorry,” she told him, rubbing her wrist with one hand. He hadn't hurt her and she knew he would have fucked her, given her just what she wanted, what she'd thought she wanted.

 

“You've got nothing to apologize for,” he told her. “You don't want me, being bound and chained as Saarebas is too fresh in your mind. Maybe in time, but not now. No hard feelings, Boss.”

 

 

“Commander,” one of the lookouts said stepping into his office.

 

“What is it?” Cullen asked, not looking up from the papers in front of him. He'd been staring at them for hours, the words were little more than illegible squiggles on the paper. But what was the point of trying to sleep when he knew there would be nothing but nightmares there to greet him?

 

“The Inquisitor, Sir,” the scout continued.

 

“What about her?” Cullen finally looked up.

 

“She's...” the scout glanced out the open door, frowned. “Sir, it would be best if you saw for yourself.”

 

“Maker's breath,” he ground out, annoyed. Shoving back from his desk he got to his feet and followed the scout. Cullen didn't need the man to point her out, he saw where she was the moment he stepped through the door.

 


	9. Amends

Taashath lay on her back in the center of the training ring, her hands held out above her, letting her magic dance and flow. Dorian had shown her the trick, telling her it was something children often did when they first came into their magic, it helped them focus on it and learn how to control it safely. She tried to keep the light dim, letting the swirls and sparks of inert fire dance over her head.

It was pretty, she thought. And there was something relaxing about it. The next spark was a little bit brighter, and she gasped as it illuminated Commander Cullen's face standing over her. “Oh,” she yanked her magic back in, ignored the stinging pain of it. “I'm sorry,” she said, voice breathless as she tried to scramble to her feet. “I didn't mean, I mean, I didn't think anyone would notice. I'm sorry, Commander, I know that I promised not-”

She had her hands in front of her, twisting her fingers together anxiously. Taashath kept her head ducked down, not wanting to look at him, not wanting to see the fear or the hate, or disgust that was surely written all over his face. “We need to talk,” he said, his hand curling around her wrist. “Come on,” he gave her a little tug and she followed, dreading what was to come.

He led her to her room near the gardens, swung the door shut and the room was pitch black. “Maker's breath,” he muttered and she heard him bump into either the crate or one of the chairs and let out a quiet curse.

Even though she knew he wouldn't appreciate it, Taashath did it anyway, and let the ball of light form between her hands. She saw the candle on the crate and with a thought, it ignited, then she dropped her hands, dousing the magic between them.

Cullen's back was to her, but she could imagine his reaction. “Please, sit down,” he said, voice soft.

Fear was a knot in her belly. She wasn't afraid of him. She knew he wouldn't do anything to hurt her, but the fear was there regardless. She did as he said and crossed the room to sit in the soft leather chair as he pulled the wooden chair around so that he was seated directly in front of her.

“I need to apologize,” he told her, Cullen had his elbows resting on his knees and was staring down at his hands.

“No, you don't.”

“Yes,” he insisted, then lifted his head up to look at her. “My reaction to your magic, it is not without reason, but it is not your fault, and it isn't fair of me to-”

“I told you that you don't owe me an explanation.”

Cullen reached out, grasped her hands and held them. He wasn't wearing his leather gloves and his skin was warm against hers. “Yes, I do.” He squeezed her hands. “I reacted poorly and for that I am sorry.” He drew in a deep breath, looked down at their hands and slowly loosened his grip, but kept his hands there, beneath hers. “Will you show me what you were doing out in the training ring? It was,” he paused. “I don't think I've ever seen anything quite like it.”

Taashath bit her lip. “Are you sure?”

“Please,” he lifted his head again, met her gaze. “Please, Taashath.”

Her breath felt like it was trapped in her lungs. She opened her mouth and no sound came out. It was the second time he'd used that name, which even though she wasn't particularly fond of it, it was better than Herald, or Inquisitor. “Okay,” she said softly and looked down at her hands, she let the magic build up slowly, a dance of flame that wasn't really fire. “Dorian taught me, he said it's how they teach children control in Tevinter. It's only lights and color.”

Cullen watched for several long moments without saying anything, then he reached up and held his hand up, just a hairsbreadth away from it. Taashath let it shift, slowly so as not to startle him, the flames danced over his hand, wrapped around it. He curled his fingers, spread them, let the magic flow over them and threw them. “It's beautiful,” he murmured.

Slowly, she let the magic fade and they both sat there for a moment in silence. “I was a Templar,” Cullen said quietly, his hands resting in his lap again. “The Circle I was at fell to blood mages and abominations. It was...” he pursed his lips and Taashath started to tell him to stop, that he didn't need to explain, but he waved her off. “I owe you this,” he told her. “I was tortured, for I don't even know how long, it felt like years, by a desire demon. For a long time, I was untrusting of mages, I judged them harshly. I regret that. I know it doesn't make it okay, it doesn't change the mistakes I have made, and I will spend the rest of my life repenting for what I have done.”

“Commander,” she murmured.

“Maker's breath, after all this, you really should call me Cullen. You've stopped referring to everyone else by their titles, but not me.” He reached out again, held her hands with his. “I have moments, flashbacks, when I find myself back in Kinloch Hold, surrounded by demons and magic and I have to watch my comrades be slaughtered again and again.”

His thumb was rubbing along her knuckles and she wondered if he even realized he was doing it, or that it was sending little sparks up her arm. It made her heart beat faster, made it hard to focus on his words, but she did, because this was important. “That day when you and Blackwall were arguing, and I sent up the sparks,” she said softly because, in the dark room, where it was so quiet, she was afraid that speaking too loudly might chase him away.

“It wasn't your fault,” he told her. “I was startled, my reaction was-” he broke off, sighed. “Some days are harder than others, my lady,”

“Cullen,” she said quietly, giving his hands a squeeze. “Please, after all this, you really should call me Taashath.”

His smile was slow and crooked, but it made her heart flutter. “Taashath,” he said it softly and she felt a little shiver run up her spine.

They sat there for a long while, in the quiet, dimly lit room before either one of them spoke again. “Can I help?” she asked softly. “Is there anything I can do to help you? You've done so much for me, the lessons, I want to repay you, somehow.”

Cullen shook his head. “No, you don't need to do that. There's nothing, it's my burden to bear.”

“It doesn't have to be,” she offered. He reached up, one hand touching the broken edge of her horn.

“Iron Bull said it won't grow back,” he commented.

She reached up, covered the end with her hand. “No, it won't. It's still, I feel...” she trailed off. “Maybe I'll just get the other one cut off too. Won't get stuck on things that way, or feel lopsided anymore,” she said with a shrug.

“Don't do that,” Cullen said, and his fingers grazed down her forearm. Then as if he suddenly realized how close they were sitting, that they had been touching nearly the entire time they'd been in that room, he jerked his hands away. “Maker, I mean,” he stood up, rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. “It's late.”

Taashath watched him walk out of the room and frowned. Cullen was confusing. With a sigh, she doused the light and headed up to her quarters to try and sleep.

 

Cullen was pacing the width of his loft bedroom as he stripped and berated himself. “That was unprofessional, completely uncalled for. Why were you touching her?” he accented the words with tugs on fastenings, releasing them. He had seen her with Blackwall earlier when he'd gone to the tavern to get something to eat. They had been at a table, tucked away in the corner. “That is none of your business,” he reminded himself. “Just like if she decides to-” he couldn't say it. Didn't want to imagine it. Taashath and Iron Bull, together.

He rubbed his hand over his sternum, willed away the ache. Sleep, that was what he needed. A good nights rest. Maybe there wouldn't be any nightmares. He finished stripping and tossed himself onto the bed. Cullen pressed his face into the pillow and closed his eyes. Exhaustion caught up, and sleep claimed him almost instantly.

_The room was dark, all Cullen could hear was his own unsteady breathing. A soft glow of orange light began to build, illuminating the small room and her. Maker's breath. Taashath sat in the leather chair, one hand absently twirling the magic, while she held a book with the other hand. Not a grimoire, not a book of spells, but one of Varric's novels._

_Her hair was loose, fell down over her shoulders in soft waves. She wore only the breast band, the slash of dark red over her full chest, and the snug black leggings that left nothing to the imagination. “Commander,” her voice, that low rumble did things to him. He stood rooted to the spot as he watched her. “I have more questions about sex, could you tell me... or better yet, you could show me.”_

_Cullen's mouth went dry as he watched her slowly set aside the book and move to stand. Each step she took toward him had his heart beating faster. Finally, she stopped in front of him, her fingers touched his jaw, tipping his head back to look up at her. Her gold eyes glinted, the magic flames made them sparkle. “Maker's breath, no, I... I can't,” he rasped._

“ _Oh,” she pouted, dropped her hand from his face and he missed the touch. “I suppose I'll ask, Bull, or Blackwall.” Taashath stepped back, and Cullen reacted._

_He reached out, caught her and tugged her against him, pinned her hands to the small of her back with one hand, while he brought the other up to grip her chin. “No,” he said before claiming her mouth in a hard kiss. It was awkward for a moment, but then he felt her body melt against his, she sagged, pressed into his chest and sighed a little as his hand slid along her jaw and into her hair. Pleasure sang in his veins and he wanted to devour her._

His eyes flew open, his chest heaved and he stared up at the hole in his ceiling as he tried to calm his breathing. “Maker's breath,” he groaned, tossing his arm over his face and doing his best to ignore the aching of his cock.

 

 


	10. Dancing

Sleep had not come easy for Taashath. She had lain on her pallet in the loft for a long time, just staring at the wall. Her mind was a whirl of thoughts. Worries over Halamshiral and how she would defeat Corypheus. Annoyance that she hadn't been able to handle Iron Bull touching her. But when Cullen did... She cursed softly, giving up on sleep. Taashath used her magic to light the candle and reached for Swords and Shields as she sat up.

In the weeks since Cullen had started helping her learn to read, she'd found speaking easier. She did still stumble, but not nearly as bad as she had in the beginning. As for reading, it was slow going, but she liked it. It was a wonder to her, to get to do something she liked, for no reason other than that she wanted to.

She liked the Knight-Captain in the story, the woman reminded her a bit of Cassandra in all her strength. Taashath knew it must be very late, by the time her eyes began to droop. Her cheeks still felt flushed and there was a light fluttering feeling in her chest as she put the book aside after folding down the corner of the page so as not to lose her place.

She'd read the same two pages over and over again. It hadn't been sex, but it still made her heart beat faster. Caused an ache low in her belly. They had touched. The Guardsman and the Knight-Captain. In a quiet, secret place, the Guardsman had traced the Knight-Captain's lips with his thumb, then he had backed her into a wall and kissed her, possessively, and all the world had melted away.

Taashath reached up, traced her lower lip with a fingertip and wondered if that was what it was really like? She remembered the warmth of Cullen's fingers curled around her hands. She thought of the way Iron Bull had pinned her to the wall, and in her mind replaced him with Cullen. She felt a throbbing between her thighs and clenched them together. But he wouldn't. Cullen would never touch her like that.

 

Cullen blinked in surprise as he stepped into the War Room. Taashath and Leliana were in the middle of the room, dancing. Soft music played from a music box on the war table and Josephine watched from the sidelines, taking notes and making suggestions. “What in the-”

“Lessons for Halamshiral,” Josephine told him. “It is a ball, do you think that the Inquisitor will be able to turn down a dance request without causing an uproar?”

He grit his teeth. He hated the game. Hated the lies and the backbiting and he found himself really hating the idea of Taashath being forced to dance with people who would as soon kill her as kiss her.

“Come now, Cullen, your turn,” Leliana said as the two parted.

“What?” he glanced over at her and scowled. “No,” the response was immediate, knee-jerk. He hated dancing. He knew he was terrible at it and it always made him feel awkward. “It looks as if she is doing just fine.” Besides, with the memory of the dream so fresh in his mind, he knew that touching her would not help anything. He had tried to go back to sleep the night before after waking from the dream, but the unwavering erection made it impossible. He'd resigned to taking himself in hand and had tried to keep his mind utterly blank as he worked himself.

It had been fine, until that split second just before he came. He'd pictured her face, that small soft smile turning up the corner of her lips, face framed in silver hair while magic fire danced around her. He had cursed softly as he came, a sticky mess over his stomach and hand. Cullen lay there, struggling to catch his breath, as he tried unsuccessfully to banish Taashath's face from his mind. Only then had sleep reclaimed him, gratefully without further nightmares.

Just thinking about it made his pulse quicken, he could feel his cock responding to the memory. Her hands were soft, what would they feel like wrapped around- he cut off the thought abruptly, ducked his head to hide his blushing as he moved to stand behind the war table.

“The Inquisitor needs to practice,” Leliana said, hands on her hips.

“It's fine,” Taashath told her. “If the Commander doesn't want to dance, he doesn't have to.” She reached up and pushed a bit of hair from her face before gesturing to the war table. “Besides, we have other things to discuss, Hawke and Stroud are in the Western Approach, looking into the disappearance of the Grey Wardens. I would like to join them, but it will have to wait until after we have saved Empress Celene from certain death.”

The meeting dragged on for what seemed like hours, and Cullen kept finding himself distracted by little things. Taashath's confidence seemed to have been boosted, and it caused a warmth to spread through his chest. He was proud of her. Cullen watched her sink her teeth into her lower lip and his mind was pulled into fantasy again. No one had ever kissed her. Or had they? Iron Bull, or maybe Blackwall by now. Had they taken command of her mouth? Traced the scars around her lips?

“Cullen,” Leliana's voice cut through the haze in his mind and he looked at her, jolted back into the moment. They were all looking at him and he rubbed the back of his neck as he felt his cheeks flush.

“Sorry, what?”

“Did you sleep alright, Commander?” Taashath asked, head canting to the side.

An innocent question. She'd have no way of knowing his dreams had been consumed by her. “No, I- it's fine.”

“Do you have the reports on the missing Seekers?”

“Yes, of course, here,” he shuffled through his own stack of papers and handed them to Leliana. The meeting dragged on for an eternity before finally being dismissed. Cullen went to the training field and saw to the troops, but his mind kept drifting to Taashath. He watched her walk from the main tower, staff in hand, wearing her lightweight armor as she headed for the corner she liked to train in. The one near the stables where Blackwall spent most of his time.

It was good, he reminded himself. She should get involved with Blackwall. But the thought had him clenching his fists. Cullen had no claim on her. Wanted no claim on her. If she were with another man, then maybe he would stop thinking about her in such inappropriate ways. If you don't want her, why did you ask her not to have sex with Bull? “Rylen!” He bit out, and the man looked up.

“Yes, Commander?” Rylen asked, a slight wariness in his tone.

“Keep running the troops through their training, I need... a moment,” Cullen said and after Rylen nodded he walked away.

 

Taashath sat on a log, twisting her hair into a braid after it had come loose during her exertions. Blackwall stood not far off, shirtless and chopping more wood. “My lady,” he inclined his head.

“I learned to dance,” she told him and he paused. “For the ball,” she explained and he nodded his head.

“How do you like it?”

She shrugged one shoulder. “It's alright, but I'd prefer not to. Leliana and Josephine say I need more practice. Apparently, stepping on the toes of your partners is considered offensive.”

Blackwall chuckled and set aside the axe he was using. He crossed over to her, held a hand out. “May I have this dance, my lady?”

She blinked up at him in surprise. It was the middle of the day, there was no music and anyone could see. “What? No, why?” she shook her head and felt her cheeks flush. “That isn't necessary,” she told him quietly, ducking her head.

“If the Inquisitor needs practice, I am but a humble servant, here to oblige.”

She peeked up at him, he stood in a half bow at the waist, his hand held out to her. She needed the practice and what could it hurt? Taashath chewed on her lip, then finally extended her hand to rest in his. His fingers curled around hers, then she watched as Blackwall ducked his head and for a moment she wondered what he intended to do. Press a kiss to the back of her knuckles. Her heart gave a kick in her chest, and then movement from behind him caught her eye.

Cullen stepping through the back kitchen door. He looked at her and Taashath yanked her hand abruptly from Blackwall's grip. “Sorry,” she breathed out, then Cullen was standing there.

“Warden Blackwall,” he said, his tone short.

“Commander,” Blackwall intoned back.

Then Cullen turned away from Blackwall and looked at her. “Do you have a moment, my lady? It's about a matter we discussed earlier,” he told her and her brow furrowed.

Was it the Seekers? Or something else? “Yes, of course. Excuse me, Blackwall,” she said, standing up to follow Cullen.

“My office,” he said, gesturing for her to go ahead. She did, her staff clutched in her hand, and with her back to the men, she missed the look they shared.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is potentially going to be the last chapter for a while. ~~Things in my life have not been going great, and I've had to get two jobs just to get by for the next couple of months.~~ So I don't know if I'll have another day off of work until May/June. I have more of the story planned out and will write when I can, but updates may be sporadic - which makes me super sad, because I'm really enjoying working on this story. 
> 
> ~~I am on Tumblr, so if you want to get in touch with me(which I honestly don't know why anyone would), I'm[Andaran-Atish-An](http://andaran-atish-an.tumblr.com/)~~


	11. Unexpected

“I don't like to dance in front of people,” Cullen said after closing the door to his office.

Taashath turned a frown on her face. “That's fine,” she said shaking her head a little. “Cullen, it isn't important.”

“Yes, it is,” he insisted. “Josephine and Leliana were right. You need to learn. You'll be walking into a pit of vipers and you have to have every advantage. So, if you would like, I'd be willing to help.”

Leaning against the edge of Cullen's desk she watched him, curious. “That is very generous of you,” she told him. “I would like that. Blackwall offered as well.” A muscle in Cullen's jaw ticked and she truly didn't understand why. “The Warden is a good man,” she murmured and swore she could hear his teeth grinding together. “Why do you dislike him so much?”

“What?” he shook his head, looked startled. “I don't-”

Taashath's eyebrows rose. “You've argued with him, repeatedly. Over silly things-”

“Your safety is not silly,” he cut her off.

“I'm not weak, Commander. I've taken my fair share of blows.” Cullen rubbed his hand over his mouth and turned away from her paced across to the bookshelf.

“I know you're not. Never mind, it was-” he shook his head and dropped his arms. “I am sure that the Warden Blackwall would be a better choice in the matter.”

He was probably right, she thought, slowly pushing off the edge of the desk. She trusted Blackwall at her side, he was a strong ally and she liked him well enough. But Taashath truly enjoyed Cullen's company. He'd shown concern for her well-being, had been the first to realize the reason she rarely ate and he'd found a solution for her. He had taught her to read and understand Common, in a way that had not made her feel stupid.

He had made her smile. He'd made her laugh. Something she had no memory of having ever done before. Cullen still stood with his back to her, so she reached out, touched his arm. “Cullen,” she murmured and he turned. “I would like to dance with you.”

Cullen turned to face her and he looked almost surprised. “You would?” She gave a little nod of her head and he smiled, which made her heart do that fluttery thing in her chest. “Then we'll dance,” he said.

“Here?” Taashath glanced around his office. It was big enough, but anyone could walk in. “There is no music,” she pointed out. She had liked the tinny sounding music box that Josephine had found. Music was another thing she'd never had under the Qun. It wasn't necessary. But she thought it just might be. She loved listening to Maryden playing in the tavern.

“We don't need it, do we?” Cullen asked. “And of course here, why not here?”

“Anyone could walk in,” she said, gesturing to the three doors that anyone could push open at any moment. She knew that Cullen often just left them open since it seemed that someone always needed him for something. The last thing she wanted was to cause Cullen any embarrassment.

She watched him walk over to one door and turn the lock, then the next and then finally, the last door was locked. He turned, looked at her, and she saw something in his eyes as he looked at her, that she didn't understand, and it made her heart beat faster in her chest. Like fear. But she wasn't afraid of him. She'd been alone with him plenty of times, but suddenly she found it hard to swallow. “Are you...sure?” Taashath asked as he began to close the distance between them.

“Taasha,” he said, and she blinked at the shortening of her name. Shokrakar had called her Taashath, Calm, because she'd been quiet, reserved, hadn't lashed out. She hadn't liked the name, but that is what they called her. But hearing Cullen call her Taasha, she liked that. “I wouldn't have offered if I wasn't sure,” he said, and his voice sounded rougher than usual.

Were her hands shaking? Would he notice? She bit her lip and thought she heard Cullen groan before he held out a hand to her. “My lady,” he said. “May I have this dance?”

She rested her hand in his and felt the heat of his rough palm curl around her fingers. He ducked his head, brushed his lips against the back of her knuckles. Taashath's mouth fell open and she stared at him. Cullen glanced up at her, his head still lowered and she felt an ache building low in her belly.

Cullen straightened and drew her into his arms, one hand curled around her waist, while the other clasped hers. She promptly stepped on his toes and nearly burst into tears. “I'm sorry,” she said in a rush, but Cullen smiled at her, a warm one that made that ache grow.

“How about you let me lead this one,” he said.

“Sorry, Josephine and Leliana told me I needed to learn both and I-”

“They are right, you should, but this one is mine.”

So she let him lead, and he danced her around his office, and soon she forgot everything else. Dancing with Cullen was very different than dancing with Leliana or Josephine. Without seeming to realize it, he'd shifted his hands as they danced, until one hand rested nearly on the small of her back and he held her hand against his chest.

It felt intimate.

Taashath thought she might burst into flames if they continued like this, but she didn't want to stop either. It was finally someone banging on Cullen's door that broke them apart. “I think you'll do just fine,” he said, his voice sounding a little hoarse.

“Thank you, Cullen,” she said and caught the flush of his cheeks as he ducked his head.

“You're welcome, Taashath,” he cleared his throat before crossing to open the door. Taashath didn't miss the way the scout's eyes slipped past Cullen to meet her gaze. There was a look of surprise on the man's face before Cullen's voice barking out a reply refocused the man's attention. Taashath crossed to the door that lead to the other tower and slipped out. It was late, the sun was beginning to sink lower in the sky. They had to have been dancing for well over an hour, maybe even longer.

Glancing toward the stables, she saw Blackwall, leaning against the doorway of the barn, arms over his chest. She raised a hand to wave at him, but he didn't return the gesture, only dropped his arms and stepped into the arm. Heat flushed her cheeks and she ducked through the doorway to where Solas sat at his desk in the center of the tower.

 

The next several days were a flurry of last-minute preparations for their journey to Halamshiral. Cullen tugged at the collar of his jacket as he made his way down the hall. He loathed the uniform that Leliana had declared suitable for the Winter Palace. It was uncomfortable and chafed and he felt like he couldn't breathe the collar was so tight. It had nothing to do with the box he held in his hand as he made his way down to Taashath's room.

His dreams had only gotten worse, waking up in the middle of the night with the memory of her body against his as they had danced, nagging him. Taunting him. He had no idea what he'd been thinking when he'd asked her to dance.

Stopping in front of her door he lifted his hand and rapped his knuckles on the heavy wooden door. Only moments passed before the door opened slowly. “Oh,” she murmured, stepping back, pulling the door open farther. She wasn't clad in the same uniform as himself, Leliana and Josephine. Instead, she wore something closer to armor, which he was glad for. The black leather pants hugged her thighs and he suddenly found it hard to breathe. The fitted shirt was tight over her chest and waist. He imagined she would get copious amounts of attention the entire night. “Did you need something, Cullen?”

“I have something for you,” he told her.

“For me?” she asked, curious and watched him as he stepped into the room and kicked the door shut behind him.

“Sit,” Cullen said, gesturing to the small vanity table. She did as he'd said, but watched him in the mirror as he crossed to stand behind her. “Close your eyes,” he said and after several heartbeats she did.

His heart was pounding in his chest as he opened the box and looked at the gold horn that Dagna had crafted and promised him would be a perfect fit. Cullen sent up a silent prayer, withdrew it from the box and slipped the gold replica onto the broken stub of Taashath's horn.

Her eyes snapped open, the dark kohl that lined her eyes made the gold even more stunning, and she met Cullen's gaze in the mirror. “what..” she trailed off, turned her head slowly, to get a better look at it. “How...?” she reached up and touched it, very carefully.

“Dagna,” he told her, and realized he had a hand resting on her shoulder and for some reason, he was reluctant to remove it. Her hair brushed against his skin as she turned her head and tilted it, all to get a better look. “You had seemed quite upset, I had hoped this would help.”

Unexpectedly, tears filled her eyes. Cullen was horrified. Until the corner of her mouth turned up into a small smile. “I don't know how to thank you,” she told him, reached up and covered his hand on her shoulder and squeezed.

“You don't need to. I wanted to help.”

Cullen's gift had drastically improved her mood and her confidence. The gold replacement, that matched her horn exactly was beautiful. Dagna had etched delicate flowers, into vines around the length of the horn. Dressed in her almost armor, she felt ready to face the Orlesians and do what she could to save the world. Until they actually arrived at the Winter Palace and she saw the looks of disgust on many of the faces that weren't completely covered with masks.

“ _Isn't that the Inquisitor?”_

“ _That ox? No, you're mistaken, it must be someone's pet.”_

Taashath thought she was used to the comments. Had believed they didn't bother her any longer. She'd been wrong, and they had only just arrived. Hadn't even entered the palace.

“Whatever they offer you, I could double it, no, triple it.”

Taashath looked over at the masked man who had strode up to stand beside her. “Excuse me?” she asked, dumbfounded.

“Come home with me, whoever keeps you looks as if they treat you well enough, but I could offer you more.” She opened her mouth, then snapped it shut as he continued. “I wouldn't as for much more than this, you're a sight to behold. Attending parties, I already have a mistress, but if you were amenable, I would be more than happy to-”

Heat suffused her cheeks and her ears were ringing so loud they drown out the rest of his words. Taashath wanted little more than to light the man's tailcoat on fire. Was this a preview as to how the rest of the night would go? Proposition after proposition to be someone's _pet_?

A hand slipped around her wrist, and she nearly reacted, violently, but the pressure was warm, familiar, a calloused thumb rubbed over the inside of her wrist and she glanced over to meet Cullen's concerned gaze. “My lady?” he said softly. “I believe Lady Montilyet is ready,” he didn't even bother to acknowledge the sputtering man beside her, so she didn't either. She inclined her head and they walked away.

“You looked as if you might light the man on fire,” Cullen commented, voice quiet as they walked down the stairs.

“I wanted to,” she admitted, felt his grip tighten ever so slightly and wondered if she should have admitted that to him, knowing what she knew about how much he disliked magic.

“What did he say to you?”

“He wanted to take me home, to be his pet, sex wasn't required, but he was willing-” Cullen had frozen on the stairs, one hand gripping the railing tightly, the other still curled around her wrist. Taashath stood on the next step down, putting them at equal height. His jaw was clenched, she could practically hear his teeth grinding together. “I wouldn't have done it,” she said quietly. “I can control myself and my magic, Commander,” she kept her voice low, so those who were slipping past them on the stairs wouldn't overhear her. “I know how important this is, I remember what happens if Celene dies.”

Cullen blinked, brow knitting together. “That is not-” he broke off and shook his head. “You think I don't trust you? I am angry that man tried to proposition you, not because I believe you would have lashed out at him.”

“Why?” she asked, her own brow furrowing, mirroring his expression.

“Because-” he shook his head. “You're the Inquisitor, it will be known by everyone here soon enough, but for that man to have-” he broke off again, looked past her. “There is Josephine, come on, let's get this over with.”

 


	12. Desires

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen's imagination gets away from him...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The only reason this chapter is being posted so soon is because  
> 1\. It's really short  
> b. Most of it was already written

Cullen had believed, or at least hoped, that once they announced just who Taashath was, that she was the Inquisitor, the Herald of Andraste, that the propositions would cease.

He had been wrong. They seemed to increase, tenfold. He heard them as he stood by, watching. There was nothing he could do about it. Cullen had his own admirers, but he'd mostly ignored them, though he tried to stay polite. Taashath had danced, and wooed the crowd, seemingly a master of the game.

At one point she had made her way to him, leaned into the corner, hiding. “I hate this,” she told him quietly. “I feel so out of place. I keep waiting for someone to plunge a dagger into my back.”

“I don't think they would dare,” he tried to reassure her, but he couldn't help but worry the same thing. Whoever it was that was after the Empress, wouldn't be phased by murdering Taashath if she got in their way.

“You know as well as I do, that if the opportunity arose, they wouldn't hesitate.” He shot her a hard look, but she just lifted her eyebrows, as if waiting for him to disagree. Finally, she drew in a deep breath and stepped out of her hiding place.

Cullen reached out, caught her arm, she froze. People were watching, he could see them, saw their heads ducking together to whisper. What did they think of him grabbing hold of the Inquisitor's arm? “Be careful,” he said softly.

“You too,” she murmured, tilting her head toward his followers.

Then he heard the whispers again.

“ _Have you seen the Inquisitor? Can you just imagine?”_

“ _I'd like to grab her by the horns and just-” a quiet giggle._

“ _Oh, you.”_

“ _Can you really blame me?”_

Cullen's jaw ached, and he realized he was clenching his fists as well as his jaw. While their words enraged him, they also put the image in his head. He knew what the texture of her horns felt like, like polished stone. Cullen wanted to trace the curve of them with his fingers. He glanced across the ballroom, saw her speaking with someone. Taashath looked over at that moment, caught his gaze and he felt his cheeks heat and mentally scolded himself for once again letting his mind wander when it came to the Inquisitor.

Finally, the night came to an end and Cullen's head felt as if it might simply fall right off his shoulders. He retired to his room and stripped out of the horrible jacket and down to his smalls before collapsing face first onto the bed. He closed his eyes, hoped sleep would wrap it's welcoming arms around him, but suddenly his mind was alive with overheard conversations. The whispers. Taashath.

She'd saved the day. Saved the Empress and had easily manipulated the trio into playing by the Inquisition's rules. She had looked so fierce standing up there, a force to be reckoned with. Then, once it was done, he'd congratulated her and she had smiled at him. It was tired and small, but that sweet curve of her lips – Maker's breath, he closed his eyes. He was as bad as the Orlesians. “Don't you dare picture her,” he silently ordered himself as he slid his hand down his muscled stomach before dipping under the waistband of his shorts. It didn't take much, his cock went hard with just a few slow pumps.

Immediately, the image of her peering at him from across the crate, as he taught her how to read, entered his mind. He cursed softly, shook his head as if he could shake out the image of her. Tried to remember the last woman he'd been with. A woman from the Blooming Rose. Brunette? No, she'd been blonde. Cullen shoved his smalls off the rest of the way, let his eyes slip shut again as he curled his fingers around his length once more.

_Silver hair gleaming in the moonlight._

“Damn it,” he squeezed harder. The woman had been blonde, her eyes – he couldn't remember. Had he even looked her in the eye?

_Gold eyes watching so intently as he scrawled words on paper._

“Maker-” The woman had tanned skin, a tattoo on her back that he'd noticed when he bent her over the table.

_Taashath's lips curving into that barely-there smile._ One so rare, he could remember with stark clarity each time she'd done it.

Cullen groaned, hips rocking, pushing his cock into his fist.

_Taashath gently using her magic to make the brilliant flame that was only light._

_The way she had looked as she stood before all those at the Winter Palace and easily commanded the crowd._

He pictured her on her knees, silver hair loose, lips parted, looking up at him. What would it feel like to curl his hands around her horns while her tongue stroked his cock?

No. He pushed that image out of his mind. _She sat in that supple leather chair, perfectly naked, glowing in the candlelight while he knelt before her, ready and eager to worship her._

What would she sound like? The low timbre of her voice, moaning his name as he lapped at her core. Cullen's hips bucked. Orgasm catching him by surprise. He groaned, thrusting into his hand again and again.

_Her thighs, squeezing, holding him tight. He'd keep going until she begged. Short nails biting into his back. He would make her come – screaming his name – ensuring all of Skyhold heard._ “Taasha,” he chocked on a groan, his cock twitching, hips spasming as he tried to breathe.

He shouldn't have done that. It wasn't right to think of Taashath like that. Especially not after telling her how adamantly uninterested he was in her. That was before he knew her thought, and to be fair, he hadn't been interested in anyone. He still wasn't. Cullen rolled over onto his back, out of the wet spot on the bed and pulled one of the pillows over his face.

_Taashath over him, riding him, breasts swaying as she moved –_ his cock twitched. He sunk his teeth into the pillow. So much, he thought, for a quick tug and sleep.

_Silver hair against dark grey skin, head tossed back in pleasure._

Cursing Templar stamina, Cullen curled his hand around his cock again and gave into the fantasy. He'd let her set the pace, while he touched her.

_Hands sliding over thighs, belly and breasts._ Cullen would tease her clit until she came, clenching around him. Then he would pull her down over him, suck on her breasts, her throat, her lips as he drove into her with desperate thrusts, he'd make her come again. Then he'd let himself go. He'd bury himself to the hilt and while she trembled from pleasure, he would spill his seed deep inside of her.

Cullen groaned, felt his cock throb as come, hot and sticky, jet over his stomach. He sagged, his hand falling away as he turned his head to dislodge the pillow from his face so he could breathe. By the Maker, what was wrong with him? How could he have done that? He felt his face flush. It had been too long since he'd been with a woman, he thought.

He lay there for several minutes, hating himself before he heard the soft knock on his door. Cullen cursed silently, willed the late night visitor away, but then the knock came again. “Cullen?” Taashath's voice came from the other side, and his cock throbbed, spent, but more than ready to have another go, if it meant being inside of her.

He climbed out of the bed, yanked on the trousers, then strode across the room. He yanked open the door. Why was she there? Did she know somehow what he'd been doing?

“Oh,” she blinked down at him. “Sorry. I- of course, you were sleeping,” her eyes flicked behind him, and he hoped there was no tell-tale evidence of what he'd been doing. He looked down at himself, cursed, running his hand over his stomach, and sent up a silent prayer that she was still naive enough when it came to sex that she wouldn't realize there was come smeared on his stomach.

“Did you need something?” he asked, his voice sounding a little rough.

“I couldn't find Josephine or Leliana. I wanted to tell you I was leaving,” she told him quietly and his brain couldn't process the words, she was still speaking, but he couldn't hear the words.

Leaving? She was leaving? He realized she was wearing her traveling clothes, and carried her small leather satchel. “And Blackwall. I can't wait any longer. We're going to meet Hawke and the Warden in the Western Approach.”

With Blackwall. There was a tightness in his chest that Cullen didn't fully understand. “You and Blackwall-”

She canted her head to the side and her brow furrowed. “And Cole and Dorian. I already spoke with them. I just wanted to be sure someone knew. Are you alright, Cullen?” Taashath reached out but dropped her hand away before she made contact. “I'm sorry I disturbed you, get some sleep, Commander.”

“Is that an order?” he asked, startled by just how much he wished she had touched him.

Her lips curved into that almost smile. “I wouldn't dream of commanding the Commander.” She stepped backwards and Cullen's hand shot out.

“Taasha,” he said, the memory of the fantasy still too fresh in his mind.

Her eyes softened. “I like it when you call me that,” she told him.

Cullen faltered. He stared at her, hand around her arm. “Be safe,” he finally managed to get out.

“Is that an order, Commander?” she asked, and it that tightness in his chest loosened, just a bit.

“It absolutely is,” he told her.

“Very well, Commander. I'll return to Skyhold safely, as soon as possible.”

 


	13. Adamant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen tries to comfort Taashath in the wake of the events of Adamant Fortress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes I have an easier time writing on paper than typing. But it is always such a disappointment when six full pages of text works out to be less than 2 when all is said and done.
> 
> I'm sorry my chapters are always so short. 
> 
> Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy the new part.

Cullen looked up and tried not to flinch when Cole suddenly appeared at his side. “What is it?” he asked, knowing Cole didn't usually just appear for no reason.

“She's afraid,” he said softly.

“Who?”

“The Inquisitor. She doesn't want to be a dangerous thing.”

“Where is she?” Cullen demanded.

“Hiding in a corner, behind the crates.” Cole pointed and Cullen headed up the stairs and along the rampart to the far end where it was quiet. He spotted a cluster of crates and peered around them. Sure enough, Taashath was crammed into the corner, her legs pressed to her chest with her arms around them.

“Taasha,” he said softly as he crouched down beside her. It was cramped and awkward, and he could only imagine how she'd wedged herself into the small space.

“Alistair is dead,” she murmured, not looking up. “I left him in the Fade with no escape.”

“You're hurt,” Cullen noted, reaching out to catch her bloodied hands.

“Did you hear me?” she snarled, yanking her hands away, or at least trying to, but she didn't have the room to move, and Cullen tightened his grip. “Alistair is _dead_. It is my fault.”

“It is not your fault,” he said as he inspected her hands. Small cuts littered her hands, unlikely the cause of all the blood. Unless she was hiding a more severe injury, the blood probably wasn't hers.

“How can you say that?” she asked, not resisting as he slid his hands along her arms, she still wore her armor, stained with blood, from the many demons she'd slain while in the Fade. Cullen seemed concerned and Taashath couldn't help but like it. Even if it was only because she was no good to the Inquisition if she were dead.

“I was told what happened. Hawke informed me that she said she would stay and Alistair said it was his duty as a Grey Warden.” Cullen's hands stopped their quest as he reached her shoulders. They stayed there, the weight of them comforting, reassuring that she was no longer in the Fade.

It had been horrible. Every fear she'd ever had, taunted her there. “I may as well have killed him myself.”

“Stop that.” One hand shifted coming to rest on the side of her neck. Taashath's breath caught at the feel of leather-clad fingers against bare skin. “Alistair knows what is at stake. You are important. Your survival is imperative to the future of Thedas.”

Her eyes burned and she closed them tightly, willing away the tears. She didn't remember the last time she had cried. Emotions equated to weakness in the Qun. Doubly so for a Saarebas. They mad it easier for the demons to grab hold. One hot tear rolled down her cheek, then another. A broken sound tore from her throat and she tried desperately to grasp onto her emotions, to control them. Would Cullen feel the same way the Arvaarad had?

“Taasha,” he said it so softly she felt compelled to open her eyes. Cullen's gaze was soft. Then he lifted one hand to cup her cheek. The touch was startling. The leather was warm and soft against her skin, as he wiped away the wetness of her tears. She was embarrassed by the tears rolling unchecked down her face, but Cullen's touch made it worth it, she thought. Taashath would gladly sacrifice any pride she might possess for the sensation of Cullen's touch.

“This was not your fault,” he told her, voice quiet but adamant. “It was Alistair's choice.”

“But I should have done more," she insisted, her voice cracking. "Something. Anything. What good am I if the people who trust me to save the world keep dying?”

“If there had been anything you could have done, I know that you would have done it, without hesitation.” His hand shifted, he cupped her jaw and she stared up at him with wide eyes. “You are brave and strong. I admire you, Taasha,” his words were earnest and made her heart flutter in her chest. “What you endured prior to being taken prisoner by Cassandra, and then everything since... Not many could survive it, let alone flourish.”

Cullen's thumb grazed the bottom of her lip and Taashath was certain her heart stopped. She couldn't breathe. The last time someone had touched her mouth was when they had sewn her lips shut. “You are intelligent and strong and stunning. I have never known another like you.”

Long moments passed where she continued to stare up at him. Her tears had dried, but he hadn't removed his hands from her face. “Did you ever take Iron Bull up on his offer?” he asked and words were lodged in her throat, so she nodded her head, just slightly.

Cullen's eyes met hers and she didn't understand what emotion flashed there. Anger? Disappointment? “But I couldn't,” the words finally came out, barely a whisper. “I just wanted to know what it was like, but I couldn't.”

“So, you still have never been kissed? Or has the Warden Blackwall been granted that privilege?”

“No.”

“Good.”

Taashath thought her heart might beat right out of her chest. She couldn't think, let alone breathe. She watched Cullen as he withdrew his hand from her jaw and lifted it to his mouth. Teeth closed around the tip of the middle finger of the glove and he tugged. Moments later the glove was off and then his hand was on her jaw again. Calloused thumb against her lower lip.

Tears stung her eyes again, but for a completely different reason. The sensation, the feel of his hand on her face. It was the most wonderful thing she'd ever felt. She was terrified to move, afraid that if she shifted, if she so much as breathed she'd break the spell and he'd pull away before she could memorize what it felt like to be touched.

“Taasha,” he murmured softly as he leaned in closer, his lips parted she felt his breath against her lips. Was he going to kiss her? By why? Would in the world could Cullen kiss her?

It wasn't what she expected. She had read the kissing scenes in Swords and Shields again and again. The kiss had been a possession, a claiming. This was barely a meeting of mouths. Taashath didn't react. Didn't know how to. Cullen's lips just touched hers and she felt the warmth of his breath on her tongue. But she tried to commit the entirety of it to memory.

“Commander,” a voice broke the spell. Cullen jerked away from her and turned to stand.

She ducked her head as she got to her feet, avoiding the gaze of the scout.

“What?” she heard Cullen growl. It would be best, she thought, if she just slipped away. Because she couldn't fathom that he'd meant to kiss her. Obviously, she misunderstood. _Friendship and nothing more_. Weren't those the words he'd used when she'd fumbled through one of their first conversations in Haven all those months ago?

Cullen turned back to her as the scout scurried away. “It's late,” she said, looking anywhere but at him. “We should return to Skyhold first thing-”

Cullen's bare hand thrust into her hair cupped the back of her neck and tugged. His mouth was on hers. Hard. Bruising. She made a sound, startled. The kiss ended as soon as it started. He drew back, wiped his hand over his mouth and then he walked away.

Taashath's legs felt unsteady and she sunk down on the edge of the crate as she watched his retreat. Reaching up, she touched her lips. Breathing was difficult and so was thinking. _Why_? It was the only word her mind could come up with.

 

Cullen kept touching his mouth as he blindly walked across the fortress to where his tent had been set up. Maker's breath. He'd kissed her. He could deny it till the day he died, that he'd _wanted_ to kiss her for months. Not like that. Her first kiss. She hadn't gone through with it with Bull, hadn't let Blackwall be the one. He'd wanted to give her something soft, and sweet. Tender. A first kiss that she might look back on happily in the years to come.

Instead, the scout's interruption had irritated him. She'd been ready to flee.

He should have let her. _Maker's breath_ , what had he been thinking? He hadn't. Not with his head anyways. The quiet sound she'd made had broken through the haze of lust wrapped around his mind and disgust with himself had quickly taken its place. She had looked so startled, those golden eyes of hers so wide as she looked at him. He touched his lips again, wished he could take it back.

Wished he could do it right. Cup her face and kiss her slowly, part her lips and taste her tongue. Kiss her until she melted until she moaned until all she knew was sweet pleasure.

In his tent he yanked off his armor, ignoring the aching throb between his thighs. He didn't deserve pleasure, not after what he'd done. Would she ever trust him again? He wondered as fell face first onto the cot, pinning his cock to the thick canvas, trying to stifle his own arousal, to punish himself.

Maybe this would send her straight into Blackwall's arms. The thought was a bucket of cold water down his back. She deserved better. Better than himself. Could Blackwall be the better man? He seemed by far, less damaged. Didn't have the issues with magic that still plagued Cullen. With a sigh, he rolled onto his back and stared up into the blackness of his tent. What she deserved was to be happy. Something Cullen knew he couldn't make her.

 


	14. Heat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen tries again.

Cullen still felt like a fool for the way he kissed Taashath. He imagined it was memorable, but for all the wrong reasons. She deserved so much better. Cullen wanted to be the one to give her better. The idea had come to him on their journey from Adamant Fortress and he'd been unable to let it go. He just hoped he hadn't scared her off the whole idea.

They had been back at Skyhold for the last three days and Cullen hadn't so much as glimpsed Taashath. The kitchen staff had seen her, but few others. _My fault?_ He couldn't help but wonder.

The kiss had been a disaster, but he wanted more. Wanted to hear her cry out in pleasure, listen to the sounds of it echoing off the stone walls of his tower. Wanted to taste every inch of her.

Cullen had tried to talk himself out of it, remind himself of all the reasons why it was a bad idea. But each night, he'd curled his hand around his cock, thought of her, and it had never been enough. He wanted _her_. It was late, after dinner, most had retired for the evening, or taken up at the tavern, but Cullen was on a mission.

He didn't knock on the door to the small room. Instead, he just pushed open the door and saw her sitting sideways in the chair, legs draped over one arm, her back wedged against the other corner, Varric's damn novel in her lap. She had one hand on the page, the other, _Maker's breath_ , the other was tracing her lower lip. Taashath hadn't noticed him, so intent on her reading, he watched tongue flick out against her lips and he nearly groaned.

 _Did she have any idea just how remarkable she was?_ “Taasha,” he said softly, hoping not to startle her. She jumped, stared at him with wide eyes.

“Cullen,” Taashath scrambled to her feet. “Commander is there something I can...” she trailed off as he closed the distance and gently took her hands in his.

“Actually,” he said. “I am hoping that you will allow me to do something for you.”

Her brow furrowed and she looked down at their hands. His were bare, he wasn't wearing his usual armor. Instead, a simple pair of trousers and a dark linen tunic. “You don't need – I mean there isn't anything-”

“The kiss the other night,” Cullen interrupted her fumbled words. “I would like to apologize and make it up to you if you'll allow it.”

Heat scorched her cheeks. _Of course_ , she thought. The kiss had been an accident or something. Tugging her hands free she shook her head. She had been avoiding him since they'd returned to Skyhold. Which had been hard, because she'd missed his company. “No, Cullen, you do not need to – I understand. It was a mistake.” She waved her hand and hoped he would go away and leave it at that. But no, he reached out, caught her hands again.

“No, Taasha, you misunderstand my meaning. I meant to kiss you, but I want to do it again, properly.”

“Properly?” she echoed.

Cullen didn't want to make her crane her neck down to meet him, so he led her to the chair and cupped her face between his palms. “Will you allow me to do it right this time?”

 _How had it been wrong before?_ The words got tangled up as she stared at him. His golden hair was curlier than usual and he seemed nervous.

“Taasha,” his voice was a quiet rasp. “Say yes, please.”

“Yes,” she said immediately then felt his thumb brush against her lower lip.

“Thank you,” he murmured, leaning in, his lips almost touching hers. He paused, breathed and then she felt his lips warm against her own. A gentle pressure that made her want to move her lips against his. When she did, she heard Cullen groan and felt one of his hands shift to the back of her head. Taashath felt soft fabric beneath her fingers and realized she had moved her hands up to curl around the loose fabric at his waist.

She wanted to memorize every detail of that moment. The way one hand cupped her jaw, and the other tangled in her hair. How soft and full his lips were against hers.

Her head was spinning and she couldn't breathe by the time Cullen released her mouth, but he didn't pull away. “That is how I should have kissed you that night,” his lips continued to brush against hers with each word he spoke.

“The others weren't bad,” she murmured her eyes fluttering open as his fingers stroked the back of her head.

“Liar,” he chuckled, brushing a kiss over her mouth again. “They were terrible.”

Taashath didn't think so. She had enjoyed the touch. Both the one that was barely there and the one that had stolen the breath from her lungs. But this one was her favorite because Cullen was still touching her. “I think I might like this kissing thing,” she admitted. It was so much better than she had anticipated.

He kissed her again, harder this time and a moan escaped her lips, surprising her. “I could show you more, Taasha, if you'll let me. You asked if sex was nice, I said it could be better than nice,” he pulled back enough to look her in the eye. “Would you let me show you how much better than nice it can be?”

She bit down on her lip. She wanted, wanted to know what it was like. Wanted to be touched, to touch someone else. But the memory of Iron Bull's hands on her wrists, the sheer lack of desire she'd felt, made her anxious. “I don't know how,” she said quietly.

“I could show you,” he told her, then brushed a kiss over her lips again. “Or, I could just keep kissing you if you'd like.” Cullen's fingers were gentle on the back of her skull, stroking through her hair. “Or, if you would rather, I can leave and let you return to your book.”

Her grip tightened on his sides. “Show me,” she said the words before she could think about it, or second-guess herself.

 

Cullen held Taashath's hand as they walked along the ramparts to his tower. She was quiet and Cullen worried that he'd rushed it. He thought back to his first time. Both he and Talon were inexperienced, neither knew what to do and they had awkwardly bumbled through it. But they had learned. He banished the memory of the woman as they stepped into his office and Cullen locked the door behind them. “Up the ladder,” he said and watched bite down on her lip as she glanced up the length of it before she began to climb.

After ensuring the doors were locked and that they would not be disturbed, Cullen followed. She stood, her arms wrapped around her middle, looking around the room. He'd lit candles and the glowed softly, giving off a romantic glow, he hoped. She was silent and Cullen began to worry. “Come,” he said taking her hands as he led her to the foot of the bed. He sat beside her and looked up at her. “We can stop, at any point. You say the word and this ends. I want you to enjoy this. If you don't-”

“I do.” she said quickly, her hands tightening around his. “I do want this. I am just... I am nervous. I don't know what I'm doing, Cullen. What... what if I do something wrong?”

He smiled gently, cupped her cheek before he kissed her softly. “Why don't you lay down with me,” he suggested with a nod toward the head of the bed. The sheets had been freshly washed and he procured a few extra pillows. So far as Cullen knew, Taashath still slept on the wooden floor of the loft in her quarters, but he wanted her to be comfortable.

Stretching out beside her, so that they lay on their sides facing one another, Cullen slid one arm beneath her head, while his free hand rested on the curve of her hip. After a moment, she laid one hand on his waist and the other spread over his chest.

Her eyes seemed wider than usual, more watchful. “We can do this however you like, as fast or as slow as you want.” Cullen closed the distance, kissed her slow and languid. He wanted to devour her, ravage her mouth, but he would go slow and take his time with her, savor every precious moment with her.

She sighed against his lips, kissing him back just as slow. For a moment, he wondered what it would be like to wake every morning, her body warm and strong against his, and wake her with gentle kisses. Make love to her as the sun rose. The fingers as her side dipped under the hem of her shirt, just barely, felt the smooth flesh.

She inhaled sharply and Cullen froze. “Taasha,” he said quietly, pulling back enough to look at her face, she looked at him, pupils dilated.

“I-” she breathed. “When I tried to take the Iron Bull up on his offer,” she said quietly. “It wasn't like this.”

“What was it like?” he asked, shifted his hand slightly until he could rub his thumb along the waistband of her pants.

Her eyes slid shut and her lips parted. “His hands around my wrists, the stone wall at my back. It was-” she opened her eyes, met his gaze. “Not what I wanted.” 

“And what do you feel now? Here, with me?” Cullen murmured, leaning down to brush a kiss over her throat.

“Heat and I-” she gasped a little as his lips found her earlobe. “More,” she breathed out. “I want more.”

Cullen barely held in a groan. The sound of her low voice going all breathy went straight to his cock. It was torture of the sweetest kind. How many other sounds could he draw from her? Slowly he closed his teeth very lightly around her earlobe and her breath caught, and her hands curled into fists.

“You... you bit me,” her voice hitched, pulling back so that he could look at her, he saw no anger in her gaze. “I.. I think I liked it. Why did I like it?”

“We should double check, just to be sure,” Cullen said softly, nuzzling his way along her jaw until he got her to turn her head so he could reach her other ear. He kissed it softly, then wrapped his lips around it, heard her soft sigh before he bit down a bit harder than before. Taashath cried out, back arching, while her grip tightened on his side. “Did that hurt?” he asked her, soothing the hurt with his tongue.

“Yes,” she whimpered. “No. I don't know.”

He kissed her, repeated the action with her full lower lip. She retaliated, and Cullen groaned, the arm beneath her head shifting so that he could curl his fist in her hair and claim her mouth. He kissed her harder than he knew he should. _Slow_ , he mentally reminded himself. _Don't rush this, don't ruin this for her._ But she kissed him back and it felt just as desperate.

“You like it?” she asked, breathless when he finally tore his mouth from hers so he could press kisses against her throat. “Being bit?”

Cullen felt his cheeks flush, and he couldn't deny that the modicum of pain was a thrill. “I would be more than happy to have you sink your teeth into me,” he told her and watched her eyes widen and he held barely contained a grin as her cheeks went pink. He eased her onto her back, helped her adjust the pillows so she was comfortable and kissed her softly again. “A little bit of pain can make the pleasure that much more enjoyable,” he tried to explain. His hand found her waist again, and he slipped his thumb beneath her shirt and stroked lightly over her skin, felt her muscles tremble. “Okay?” he asked, meeting her gaze.

“Yes,” she said with a nod. Cullen slipped his hand up higher, moving slow, watching her face. Her eyes fluttered shut as his palm came to rest on her belly. He felt her muscles go taught beneath his fingers.

“Taash,” he said softly.

“No one has ever-” she tilted her head down to look at him again.

Cullen realized he might have to go even slower than he'd previously thought. She had never been touched, physical contact was still new to her. A part of him wanted to overwhelm her with sensation, but at the same time, he knew that he shouldn't. He let his fingers explore the planes of her stomach. He knew how strong she was, had seen her muscle in action, but there was a softness still, curves and roundness.

The buttons came undone one by one, working from the bottom up, until he'd freed them all. Fingertips traced the edge of her breast band and her breath hitched. Cullen lifted his head, looked into her eyes and swore he saw flames dancing in them. “Can we take this off?” he asked, tugging lightly at her shirt.

Taashath nodded and let him draw her into a sitting position so that he could slide her shirt down her arms, he tossed it aside and looked at her. There were scars a handful of them scattered over her arms, one that slashed across her chest. Freckles littered her shoulders and collarbone. He smiled a little, traced a finger along her collar. There were only a few over the bridge of her nose and across her cheeks, he was surprised by them.

“What about your shirt?” she asked, voice low. She had her hands resting on the bed, her fingers twisted around the blanket.

“Well, that seems fair,” Cullen said, then tugged it over his head and threw it off the same way as he had with her shirt.

“Oh,” she breathed out, then licked her lips.

“Do you approve?” he asked, with a bit of a smirk turning up his lips.

“You've less hair that Blackwall,” she commented.

“Considerably, I'd imagine,” Cullen said, trying not to grit his teeth. He watched her lift her hand, she reached out as if to touch him, but then yanked her hand back quickly. “Taasha,” he caught her hand in his, made her release the fist she had formed before he pressed it to his chest. “You can touch me, in fact, I'd like it very much if you did.” The heat of her hand was searing.

“It's softer than I would have expected,” she murmured, after a moment of stillness before she let her fingers slide through the golden chest hair.

Barely able to contain the groan that wanted to bubble from his lips, he let her fingers roam over his chest. She traced the scars, and his ribs, over his sides where she discovered he was quite ticklish. He flinched and Taashath jerked her hand back, stared at him wide-eyed. “I'm sorry,” she said in a rush. “Did I do something-”

“No,” he said quickly, interrupting her. “You didn't do anything wrong. Don't apologize.” He moved closer, cupped her face with one hand while he clasped her other and drew it back to his side. “I'm ticklish, apparently, that light touch of yours,” he pressed her hand more fully against his skin. “You don't have to be so careful Taasha, you aren't going to break me.” He kissed her and after a few moments felt her other hand come up to rest on his other side. Cullen groaned into her mouth, slid his fingers into her hair while his other hand skated over her ribs and around her to rest between her shoulder blades.

He broke the kiss, met her gaze once more, because her hands seemed frozen, resting against his sides. “I will tell you if there is something I don't like, but only if you promise to do the same.” She nodded and danced his fingers up her spine. “Promise me, Taasha,” he whispered, huskily as he found the clasp of her breast band. He leaned in so that he could press a kiss to her ear. “I want to feel your hands on my skin, and I want to touch every inch of yours. But I need you to promise me.”

“I promise,” she choked out, neck arching toward his lips as he brushed them along the edge of her ear. Her grip at his sides tightened, then as he closed his teeth around the tip of her ear, he felt the bite of her short nails in his skin, causing him to groan while she let out a breathy whimper, her body arching even closer.

 


	15. Flames

They stretched back out, facing each other once again, closer this time. The way Taashath's fingers danced over his skin had him sending up silent prayers to the Maker that he didn't embarrass himself. He stroked over her sides, her arms, along her neck, down between her breasts. Slow, he thought, might kill him. But he imagined it would be worth it. He kissed her mouth, her shoulders, up her throat, teased the tips of her ears.

Fingers grazed along the curve of her still bound breasts and there was a hitch in her breath. “Can I take this off?” he asked, ducking his head down to brush his lips along the full swell. Taashath reached behind her and the fabric went taught for a second, then fell loose. It was tossed aside and Cullen once again nudged her into her back. “Maker's breath,” he whispered, then ducked his head down to press his lips to the skin between.

Taashath wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not, but heat burned her cheeks. No one had ever seen her like this, not so intimately. No one had ever looked at her with the intent of bedding her. “Oh,” she gasped softly as Cullen's hand cupped her bare breast. Calloused fingers on sensitive flesh had goosebumps breaking out over her entire body. His lips brushed the underside of her other breast and she glanced down at him.

The air got caught in her lungs as he met her gaze under hooded lids. Soft curls fell over his forehead as he peered up at her. She watched him part his lips, her own parted in response. Then his tongue flicked out, curled around the pebbled nipple and she whimpered. Cullen suckled it into his mouth while his hand toyed with her other breast. He shifted, kissed a trail between the mounds, and repeated the same actions, tongue teasing, sucking, until all Taashath could focus on was his soft, sweet mouth and his rough hands. It was a wonderful contrast of sensation.

Taashath reached out, her fingers danced along his shoulders and she felt his lips turn up into a smile against her skin. She wanted to touch him but was afraid to at the same time. She was absolutely terrified of doing something wrong. He had said he wanted her to touch him. Still, she was nervous. Beneath her hands she felt his muscles move as he shifted down a bit lower, pressing kisses below her breasts, over her rib cage.

It was strange she thought, to enjoy the touch, wasn't it? For her anyways. She had been unable to imagine anyone touching her before, unable to imagine what it would be like. Cullen had said it could be more than nice, and so far, she thought it was. Was he enjoying it like she was? “Cullen?” his name was out before she could stop herself.

“Taashath?” he paused, brushed his lips along her sternum before lifting his head enough to look at her again.

“Are you enjoying this?” she asked.

“Is that a serious question?” he asked, then after a beat. “Of course it is, Maker's breath.” He moved back up the length of her body, claimed her lips, more fiercely than before. “If that wasn't answer enough,” he said when they broke apart to suck in deep breaths of air. “Yes, Taasha, darling, I am, very much so.” Cullen kissed her softly, then went still. “Are you?”

“Yes,” she said quickly, her fingers skimmed over his back, down his spine, and up again. “I am.”

Cullen hummed softly as he began kissing a trail down her throat. “I'm not sure I believe that,” he said, and she felt him smile against her lips again. “You're awfully quiet.” His hand skimmed down over the swells of her breasts, down her stomach then paused at the waistband of her leggings. “I want to hear you,” he breathed.

“What?” Then scraped his teeth lightly over her nipple. The strangled cry that escaped Taashath's lips surprised her, but she heard Cullen chuckle quietly, before he repeated the action with her other breast, eliciting the same reaction. She gripped his shoulders, let her nails scratch lightly and heard him let out a low groan.

She watched him as he continued down her torso, lips brushing lightly over her ribs and along her belly, with the occasional nip of teeth. Taashath didn't know when her eyes had fluttered shut but the flew open at the sensation of his mouth leaving a sucking kiss just above the waistband of her leggings. The muscles of her belly went taut under his lips. Cullen looked up, met her gaze and then shifted off the foot of the bed.

Taashath watched him, lips parted, the air in her lungs felt thick. The candlelight danced over his skin, and she thought she'd never seen anyone so beautiful. Cullen rested one knee on the foot of the bed before he reached down to begin unlacing her boot. He rid of her of one, then the other, and tossed them aside. Her fingers curled in the bed sheets as Cullen wrapped one hand around her foot and lifted her leg enough so that he could press a kiss to her ankle.

She inhaled sharply, surprised by the heat that flooded her veins at the simple touch. When his tongue flicked out she bit down hard on her lip to stifle the moan. He repeated the action with her other ankle and she let her eyes slip shut as she felt him crawl back up the bed. On reflex, she reached for him, slid her hand over his side, up his back, let her fingers splay across toned muscles that flexed as he rested his weight an elbow beside her head. “Taasha,” he said softly and she blinked up at him.

“Cullen,” she murmured, then moaned when he claimed her lips once again. His free hand traced the curve of her horn, along her jaw and throat, down over her breasts and belly, this time, when he reached the waistband of her bands, she felt the tug of him releasing the ties.

“Let me see your eyes, darling,” his voice was a gruff whisper, one she couldn't disobey. A long moment passed, she felt the hand by her head stroke through her hair, before the hand dancing over her belly dipped farther down, beneath her leggings. Under her smalls and beyond the thatch of hair, his fingers cupped her core and Taashath was suddenly hyper-aware of the damp heat between her thighs. “Andraste preserve me,” Cullen rasped. Thick fingers parted her, skimmed through the wetness and shifted up.

The cry that escaped Taashath's lips had her clamping a hand over her mouth and squeezing her thighs together, unsure whether she wanted Cullen to stop, or keep going. Cullen's wet fingers lightly grazed the pearl at the top of her sex, which set Taashath's blood on fire. “I've got you,” his rough whisper against her ear as he slowly, lightly circled the nub caused her to let out a quiet sob. “Part your thighs for me, darling,” he murmured, hooking one of his legs over hers, so she couldn't clamp her thighs shut. “Look at me,” he said and she tipped her face down so she could. “I've got you,” he told her, kissed her softly and his fingers dipped down to her opening, teasing it, gathering more moisture, before he began to stroke over the sensitive nub once again.

“Cul-len,” his name broke across her lips.

“That's it,” he murmured, stroked and circled. “I've got you.”

Her body seemed to have a mind of its own, as her hips arched toward his touch and at the low groan from Cullen, she realized her nails were digging into his back. But she had lost control of her limbs and all she could do was focus on the gentle pleasure he was creating between her thighs. “Nng,” her eyes had slid shut again, and she arched her body closer, wanting, she had no idea what.

“More?” Cullen asked and she made a sound, nodded her head jerkily. His fingers began to move a little faster, the pressure a little harder.

Pleasure washed over her, white-hot and distantly she heard a voice cry out, heard Cullen's voice in her ear, murmuring soft praise as his fingers kept up the gentle stroking until Taashath was trembling, gasping and sweet sensation took her again.

This time though, she heard Cullen curse, he left her side and she blinked rapidly, her body feeling languid and her heart beating out of control. “Cul-” she broke off seeing the scorch marks on the blanket. It hadn't been the candles, she knew. None were close enough to the bed to have done that. “Oh,” she breathed out, and despite the fact that her muscles felt as if they had turned to jelly, she scrambled off the bed. “I'm sorry, I didn't know-” she'd lost control.

Taashath couldn't bear to look at Cullen as he smothered the last of the smoldering blanket. Maybe that was one of the reasons Saarebas weren't allowed to have sex.

“Taasha,” Cullen's voice was soft, but she ignored him, searching for her breast band and shirt.

“This was a mistake,” she told him. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have agreed to this. I didn't know-” her breath hitched and she sunk down to her knees in front of the discarded pile of fabric.

Cullen came down on his knees beside her, caught her hands as she tried to untangle her breast band. “Don't leave, please, Taasha. It's alright.”

“I set the bed on fire!” she exclaimed, felt the knot of tears in her throat. “I could have-” she could have hurt him. She could have done so much worse. She had lost control and wasn't that the worst thing a mage could do? How Cullen could even stand to be so close to her, let alone touch her she wasn't sure. “I'm sorry, Cullen.” She tugged her hands free and ducked her head to her breast band.

“Do you truly want to leave?” he asked, his fingers cupping her chin, tipping her head up so that she had no choice but to meet his gaze.

No, of course, she didn't. She wanted more. Had enjoyed the pleasure so far. “Don't you want me to?” she asked him. “I lost control,” she said. “I lost control of my magic.”

“I don't want you to leave,” he said, pulled her to her feet and led her back to the bed. “I know how controlled you are, Taasha,” he nudged her knees apart, cupped her face and tilted her head back to kiss her. “I must admit, making you lose control boosted my ego quite a bit,” he looked into her eyes and she saw him blush.

“But I-”

“Do you want to stop?” he asked her.

Taashath pursed her lips, then shook her head. “But I'm afraid it'll happen again.” Absently she wondered if Solas or Dorian might have some insight, but she didn't want to stop, didn't want to go seek them out when she could be with Cullen.

“Well, we'll just see, won't we?” He knelt between her thighs and she looked down at him, found it hard to breathe as his fingers curled into the waistband of her leggings again. “Lift your hips up, darling.”

Taashath had to brace her hands behind her on the bed to do so, and when she did, Cullen dragged her pants and her smalls down her legs and tossed them aside. Then she sat utterly naked before him, her thighs parted and heat washing over her. His lips brushed over her knee, then a bit higher. Cullen looked up at her, then his mouth was where his fingers had been earlier.

She gasped in surprise, one hand tangling in his hair, while the other gripped the edge of the mattress. Taashath still felt tender, sensitive, but his lips and, oh by the Maker, his tongue were gentle. It felt wonderful, but her mind was awash with worry that she'd lose control again. That her magic would cause her to do more damage, or worse, hurt Cullen.

It went on for an age, Cullen's mouth teasing her until she was gasping until she collapsed back on the bed. “Let go, darling,” he said, rubbing his cheek against the inside of her thigh. The stubble scratched, but not painfully.

Immediately she released her grip from his hair, then heard what could only be described as a growl come from the man between her thighs. “That is not what I meant,” he said before his lips were on her again. One of his hands slid along her thigh, grazed over her opening before a finger slowly pushed inside. “Come for me, Taashath,” he murmured, lapping at her pearl. “Come for me, so I can show you more.”

Her thighs were trembling and her grip on the sheets only tightened as the pleasure grew. But what if- what if-. A second finger slipped inside, curled forward and stroked. Her cry echoed off the walls as she lost the battle with her body. Pleasure took her. Claimed her. Cullen's voice drifted to her as she desperately tried and failed to ignore the pleasure, focus on not letting her magic escape again. “That's it, fuck,” he muttered, fingers still working inside of her. “Come for me, Taasha. By the Maker. You're beautiful.”

It felt like hours had passed before Cullen finally relented and made his way back up the length of her body.

It would be a lie if Cullen said he hadn't been startled by Taashath's loss of control earlier. But it would also be a lie if he said he wasn't just as smug. Flames had licked over her body as she had arched through the second orgasm. Then he'd smelled the smoke and saw the flicker of fire at the foot of the bed. Seeing her distress had made him want to fix it, to make her feel better, to let her know that she hadn't scared him away.

He licked his lips, could still taste her on his tongue. Part of him wanted to slide back down between her thighs, put his mouth on her until her voice echoed off the walls again, but his cock ached, and he'd felt the way her inner walls had clamped around his fingers. What Cullen really wanted, was to hear his name on her lips while she came on his cock.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't expecting this smut to be quite so drawn out... I hope you're enjoying it.


	16. Culmination

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that all the build-up has been worth the wait!

She could see stars, they twinkled overhead while she struggled to calm her racing heart and catch her breath. Taashath felt the weight of Cullen's body at her side as he moved up to stretch out beside her again. “Are you alright?” his touch was gentle, fingers tipping her face toward his.

“You have a hole in your roof,” she murmured, realizing that she was not hallucinating. Cullen made a quiet, non-committal sound. “Why haven't you had it fixed?”

His hand splayed over her stomach. “I told you about my past. I have nightmares. Some nights, seeing the sky, the stars above, are all I need to calm me and remind me that I am no longer in that nightmare.”

Taashath had her own nightmares, made worse by the events at Adamant Fortress. Her Arvaarad chasing her down. Being killed for straying from the Qun. “Is there anything I can do?”

“No,” he said with a shake of his head. “This is my burden. Cassandra and I have an agreement, it is nothing you need to worry about.”

But she would worry. How could she not? He kissed her again and she melted into the kiss, let him distract her from her concerns. She could always dwell on them later. After everything Cullen had done for her, she wouldn't allow him to suffer alone.

For now, though, she would let it go. Taashath reached up and slid her arms around him as he moved over her, one thigh between hers, his weight on an elbow beside her shoulder while he kissed her, his tongue stroking against hers, teeth gently nipping at her lips. He still wore his pants. How had those not come off yet? She could feel the thick bulge against her hip and she wanted more. She wanted everything.

Her hands wandered down his sides until her fingers hooked in the waistband of his trousers. “You should take these off,” she mumbled against his mouth.

“Are you sure?” he asked, lifting his head up, looking into her eyes.

“I'm sure if you're willing,” she told him, then lightly ran her nails up his back.

Cullen arched, his eyes slid shut and he groaned while pressing his hips harder against her. “Yes,” he groaned, rocked again, then cursed softly and scrambled off the bed. “Move up on the bed darling,” he said, and she shifted backwards until her head rested against the pillows once again. Then she watched him bend over to unlace his boots and yank them off before he pushed his trousers down his legs.

Taashath licked her lips as his cock sprang free. The golden hair on his chest matched the hair that trailed down to his groin. She watched as Cullen ran his hand over his belly, then lower to curl around his length, then he gave it one firm stroke, moaned, and she let out a quiet whimper.

“Maker's breath,” Cullen rasped. “I think I could spend just from the way you're looking at me,” he told her.

She looked up quickly, blushed and ducked her head. “You're-” she wasn't sure she had words. The man was a work of art. Beautiful, as if he'd been carved from marble. He climbed back onto the bed, moved over her, and she wrapped her arms around him, welcomed the heat of him, the weight of his body. He settled between her thighs and she could feel the hard press of his length against her. Her heart kicked in her chest. Fear and nervousness warring with desire and need.

Taashath was surprised by how well they fit together. One of Cullen's elbows rested at her shoulder, fingers in her hair, while the other hand skimmed along her ribs, cupped her breast. All the while, he kissed her. Soft sweet kisses mixed in with longer, deeper ones.

“Taasha,” Cullen murmured her name, lifting his head to meet her gaze. He shifted his hips and his hard length rubbed against her still sensitive pearl, causing her to suck in a quick breath. “Wrap your leg around my waist,” he slid his hand down, over her thigh, guiding her, until she'd hooked one leg over his hip, her calf curled around his lower back.

A moan slipped past her lips at the friction it caused against her core. “Are you ready, darling?” She stared into his eyes, amazed. She could never have imagined lying in bed with Cullen while they'd been back in Haven. Never could have imagined he'd want to bed her and yet... he rocked his hips, his length rubbed through her wetness, and she watched his eyes slip shut, he pressed his lips together and Taashath knew she would never forget that moment. Cullen's lean, strong body over hers, the pleasure was so clearly written on his face, pleasure that was because of her.

Candlelight flickered and the stars danced overhead, and Taashath had never known a moment of such joy before. In this moment, the rest of the world didn't exist. There was no war, no Corypheus, no Templars or Mages. Just herself and Cullen. She reached up with one hand, let her palm cup his jaw, felt the stubble against her fingers. She liked the scratch of it. “Cullen,” she said softly. “Yes, please, I want-” her breath hitched. “I want to feel you inside of me.”

He groaned, his eyes seeming to darken has he ducked his head down again, claimed her lips and then she felt the shift of his hips, the pressure. He rubbed his cock through her damp folds again and then ever so slowly, Cullen began to push inside. There was a stretch, an ache, and a fullness that his fingers had not prepared her for. “Maker,” he breathed out, licked her lower lip, then dragged his mouth to her ear, he scrapped his teeth over the lobe, she gasped and tightened her hold on him.

Cullen groaned. “Oh, Taasha,” he breathed, lifting his head again. Taashath felt like she couldn't breathe, her chest ached and she wanted to cry, but she couldn't figure out why. “Are you alright?” he asked, and she felt his fingers brush at the corner of her eye and she realized a tear had escaped. “Did I hurt you?”

“No,” she said quickly with a slight shake of her head. “No, I don't know why,” she mumbled, reaching up to wipe her eyes. “It feels-” she broke off. Good, didn't begin to describe it, she thought. “Wonderful,” she finally whispered, and the corner of his mouth curved up into a smile. She lifted her head, kissed him this time, heard him groan and she felt him withdrawing his hips, then, just as slowly he pushed back inside.

He kept the slow and steady pace until she shifted her hips, rolled them toward him as he pushed inside, and let her nails scrape carefully down his back. “More?” he asked and she nodded.

“Yes,” she breathed and then she was lost in the pleasure. She felt as if his hands were everywhere, his mouth, his teeth, his tongue. “Oh, oh, Cullen,” she moaned, heard him groan her name in return.

“That's it,” he said against her ear, the pace of his rocking hips, causing the pleasure to arc higher and higher. “Let me hear you, Taasha.” She felt his nails scratch along her thigh, moved it higher, drove into her that much harder.

She hadn't thought she could make such a sound. The pleasured cry that escaped her, then the begging that followed as he found a place inside of her that caused a thrill to roll through her. One of his hands dipped between them, his fingers found her pearl, and white-hot pleasure spiked through her veins.

Cullen's voice was in her ear, with soft panting breaths of her name. “Again, Taash, come for me again. I want to hear my name on your lips-” he nipped at her ear and her shout echoed off the stone walls. It seemed like moments and at the same time hours later when Cullen's voice joined her still echoing cries.

He pushed deeper, pulsing inside her, holding onto her as tightly as he could before he groaned and buried his face in her throat.

Taashath couldn't breathe, and it had nothing to do with Cullen's weight over her. She liked that, the feel of his body, skin slicked with sweat against hers. His lips pressing seemingly absent-minded kisses on her throat. When she regained control of her limbs, she let her fingers trail up and down his spine as a peacefulness settled over her. “So,” she murmured. “That was sex?” she asked, surprised her voice wasn't raw.

Cullen lifted his head, one hand slid behind her neck, while the other traced the curve of her horn, down her temple and along her jaw. “That was sex,” he said with a nod.

“Was it nice?” she asked, curiously. For her, it had been the most amazing thing she'd ever experienced.

Cullen paused for a moment, seeming to think it over, then he gave a little nod. “I think that would qualify as that more than nice, I told you about.”

Taashath hummed softly, her eyes slipped shut as she leaned into Cullen's fingers. “I thought so too,” she said and she felt her lips twist into a smile.

“Maker, but you are beautiful,” he said and her eyes fluttered open, startled. He was smiling down at her and she felt her heart give a little kick in her chest. _Beautiful_. Cullen brushed a kiss over her smiling lips, before settling down onto the bed beside her. Taashath wasn't sure what to do, now that it was over. She should leave, shouldn't she? It was so late, that maybe it would go unnoticed, though she could imagine any of the scouts on the battlements had heard her cries. “Come here,” Cullen murmured, tugging her closer.

She rolled onto her side, stretched out beside him. His right hand found her left and he laced their fingers together, squeezed. Her heart was still beating wildly out of control. Shifting closer, she pressed a kiss to his shoulder, splayed her free hand over his chest, felt the soft hair, and his heart beating just as wildly. Taashath was happy to know that he seemed just as satisfied as she was.

“Do you still sleep in the loft at your quarters?” Cullen asked, turning his head to look at her.

Taashath looked up, surprised. “How did you know?”

“After you were stabbed, when I came to check on you-” he sighed, his other hand came up to rub his eyes. “I really was concerned about you, it wasn't because of the magic,” he told her, covering her hand on his chest with his. “After I left, I went to get you some water, when I came back, you weren't in bed any longer. I found you in the loft, sound asleep.” Taashath bit her lip, then nodded her head. “Why?”

“Under the Qun, it was...” she pressed her forehead to his shoulder. “They worried that if a Saarebas slept to comfortably, they might dream too deep, be too easily lured by demons. So my accommodations were never so luxurious as they are here. Everything in that room is so nice, so fragile, I'm afraid I'll break it, and it's too out in the open.”

“Do you not feel safe?”

“No, that isn't it,” she shook her head. “I just... I'm used to smaller, darker spaces.”

“Is here alright?”

Taashath hummed softly and tipped her head toward the hole in the ceiling to glance at the stars. “It is wonderful.”

“Good,” Cullen said, rolled onto his side to face her, he slipped his arm around her waist, kissed her softly, again and again.

 

She woke up sometime later, Cullen's soft snores and mumbled orders made her smile in the dark. There was likely only a few hours until the sun came up, she needed to retire to her own quarters. Despite how warm and comfortable his bed was, how nice it was to lay beside someone.

Carefully as she could, she slipped from his arms and sat on the edge of the bed. Her body ached, her legs felt as if she'd been running through the Hinterlands, and her clothes were so far away. Taashath eyed the ladder and sighed inwardly. Could she actually make it down the ladder without falling? She wondered.

An arm curled around her waist and she jerked in surprise. “I didn't mean to wake you,” she told Cullen softly, glancing down at him. He stretched across the bed, his arm around her waist, and then his mouth began pressing kisses against the curve of her hip.

“It's too early to get up, Taasha, come back to bed.”

“The sun will be up soon,” she said, but she didn't resist when he tugged her back down onto the bed and began lavishing attention on her breasts.

“Not for hours still,” he murmured, settling between her thighs. Cullen kissed her while his hand slid between them, and he brought her orgasm seemingly between one moment and the next.

When he slipped inside, she sighed, the stretch of tender muscles didn't hurt, but she winced at the mild discomfort. “Slow,” she murmured, curling one leg over his hip.

“Slow,” Cullen echoed, laced the fingers of one of his hands with hers and his movements were achingly unhurried. They pressed kisses wherever they could, and their free hands roamed each other's bodies.

His name was a soft moan, drawn from her lips as the pleasure lapped at her. He joined her moments later, and she rolled onto her side with him, and let sleep drag her down again.

It was late in the morning when Taashath woke again, this time, alone. She stretched her arms over her head and let out a quiet groan at the subtle ache in her muscles. Her skin heated at the memory of the night before. It had been... words couldn't begin to describe it. There was no way that she could possibly repay Cullen. It had been perfect. Despite her lighting the bed on fire. She sat up and sighed. All of Skyhold was up and about, there was no way it would be missed that she was slinking from his quarters. No way that any of the scouts had missed the sounds echoing from his tower.

A slip of paper on the pillow beside her caught her eye and she reached out for it.

_Darling,_

_My office doors are locked, so sleep as late as you like, you won't be disturbed. Soak in a nice warm bath as well if you've the time._

_C_

She curled her fingers around the note and clutched it to her chest for a long moment before she forced herself to climb out of the bed, on unsteady legs, and dress. The ache of her muscles became more pronounced as she moved. A soak in a warm bath wasn't a bad idea.

Taashath ducked out of Cullen's office as inconspicuously as she could, and avoided eye contact with every person she passed as she made her way to her own quarters where she planned to freshen up before speaking with Josephine. She had neglected her duties for too long. She didn't even make it halfway to her room when Leliana approached her.

“It would appear that Warden Blackwall has left Skyhold,” she told her.

 


	17. Want

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't planning on there being smut in this chapter, but... I've apparently lost control of the horndogs. 
> 
> There is much angst impending. I really wasn't planning on it being angsty. It was mostly just going to be fluff and smut, but the story has taken on a life of its own. 
> 
> Hopefully, this chapter isn't a total disaster. I wrote it a bit at a time, between other bigger angsty chunks that happen later, and I'm super tired, but I wanted to post it before I went to bed.

Taashath rubbed her forehead as she came up the stairs from the prison cells, where she had been speaking with Blackwall. _No, not Blackwall. Thom Rainier._ She was at a loss for what to do. He wanted to die for his crimes. “My lady,” she looked up at the sound of Cullen's voice and felt her heart flutter inside her chest.

She hadn't seen him since the night they spent together. After Leliana had informed her that Blackwall was gone and that it was believed he'd gone to Val Royeaux, she had left immediately, while Cullen had been out with the troops, training. “Commander,” she said, inclining her head.

Cullen stared at her for a long moment, then held out his arm. “Walk with me?” he asked. She slid her hand into the crook of his elbow and he led her out of the prison. They walked silently for a time. “You haven't been sleeping, have you?”

“No,” Taashath sighed, glancing at him. “Is it that obvious?” She reached up with her free hand and touched her forehead. She hadn't been able to sleep in the days since she had left Skyhold, her mind raced each time she lay down.

Cullen made a quiet sound. “No, I don't think so,” he said quietly. _Not to anyone else_. But he noticed. He led her to the building in which Josephine had procured rooms for them, and led her to his. Taashath sunk down into one of the plush chairs and rested her head in her hands.

“I don't know what to do,” she told him, glancing up and across the room to meet his gaze. “What would you do?”

He gave her a rye grin and shook his head. “I don't believe that I am the best person to ask that of,” he told her then crossed the room to stand in front of her.

“Why not? I trust you, and your opinion.”

“Blackwall,” he grit his teeth. “Rainier lied to his men, betrayed them, and many of them died for that. I cannot deny that he has been an aide to the Inquisition, or that he has done good things since that. But I would let him hang.”

Taashath's brow furrowed and he traced his finger along it. “Don't people deserve a second chance? The Wardens, that is what they do, most of them are criminals, given a second chance, to do good.”

Cullen couldn't admit the heart of his anger, not to Taashath. She wouldn't understand. He barely understood it himself. The other man had wanted Taashath, would have had his way with her, and left her, betrayed her. He ducked his head and brushed a soft kiss against her lips. “Come on, you're tired. Sleep on the decision.”

“I can't sleep,” she shook her head. “I can't quiet my mind off long enough.”

“Try,” he said, cupping her chin. “And if you can't, I believe I know a few ways to distract you.”

She blushed. Taashath hadn't been sure what to expect in the aftermath. Now she felt herself melt into the kiss, feeling a bit awed by him. “Come on, take off your boots.” Cullen tugged off his coat and then stripped out of his armor while Taashath watched. “Lay down with me, Taasha, let your mind rest,” he said, taking her hands and leading her to the bed.

They lay down, Cullen on his side, Taashath on her stomach, her face turned to his. He stroked his fingers through her hair and her eyes slid shut, a soft moan escaped her lips. Cullen continued the motion, his fingers gliding from the nape of her neck, down her back, again and again, until he felt her body relax completely beneath his hand.

A part of Cullen wanted to go down to the prison, and throttle Blackwall, or Thom Rainier, or whatever the bastard's name was, for putting Taashath in that situation. Blackwall had been loyal to the Inquisition, but how much of it had been due to his desire to bed Taasha. Was Cullen gaining her favor what had driven the man to flee Skyhold? To try and gain her attention in a much more drastic way?

The petty thoughts gave Cullen pause. He was being unfair. But seeing the dark circles beneath Taasha's eyes, the obvious emotional torment she was going through maddened him. Cullen felt protective of her and had from the moment he saw the way her eyes lit up when he'd given her the cup of broth and the straw. As if no one had ever done anything kind for her. Which, he imagined, with her past, it was likely true.

He imagined Blackwall, Rainier, only wanted to bed her.

But was he any better? Hadn't that been what he'd wanted? Cullen had wanted her since she'd brought it up, put the thought of her and _sex_ in his mind. But it wasn't all he wanted from her. He enjoyed her company. She had wanted this, had wanted to know about sex. He wasn't using her, wouldn't betray her.

When she woke up, he'd make sure she understood. He would make sure that she knew they were friends, but that this wouldn't go beyond that. If she wanted to continue their mutually beneficial, he wouldn't object. Cullen had to be sure that Taashath didn't get hurt by this. When he was certain she was deeply asleep, he got up and had a meal sent up. Soft things that wouldn't pose much effort for Taashath. Then he stretched back out on the bed beside her.

Still, she slept.

Cullen watched her for a while, realized it was probably creepy to lay there, watching her sleep, and let his own eyes slip shut. He let the soft sound of her steady breaths lull him to sleep.

Taashath woke sometime much later, the light in the room had shifted. _Must be late afternoon_ , she thought. Cullen still lay beside her, but now, she lay on her side as well, their legs were tangled together and his hand curled around her thigh, and he was asleep. The room was quiet, save for Cullen's soft snores and the quiet ticking of a clock somewhere.

She let her eyes drift over his face, from the disheveled curls to the faint lines around his eyes. The golden stubble on his jaw that she had enjoyed as it scratched against her skin. She wondered about the scar on his lip and found herself reaching up to trace a fingertip along it, then over the softness of his lips.

He slept so peacefully, she didn't want to disturb him. Taashath didn't know what to expect. Cullen taking her to bed that night had been the last thing she would have ever thought he'd do. Then him showing up at the prison, it hadn't been necessary. Now, they lay in bed together, as if it were something completely ordinary.

Taashath had always slept alone, or well, apart from anyone else. In her small cramped spaces, there was a familiarity about it. Whenever she'd tried to sleep elsewhere, she'd struggled. The few nights she had attempted to lay her head in the bed in her quarters at Skyhold she'd tossed and turned and felt uneasy. The idea of sharing a space with someone was not something she'd thought she would find comfortable. But there was no use denying how well she had slept in Cullen's bed, with his arms around her.

It was too bad, she thought, that Cullen would likely not want to continue like this. He'd shown her what sex was. That had been the offer. But then why had he kissed her earlier if he didn't still _want_ her? She looked at him again, wished for the chance to explore his body as he had hers.

Absently, she rubbed her fingers along his jaw. Would he let her explore him? Touch him? She thought of the way he'd put his mouth on her and felt her thighs clench. Even though she had lost control, he had still wanted her.

Cullen made a quiet sound, almost a purr, as he arched his face toward her touch. “Taasha,” he murmured, eyes still closed, and her heart swelled. Even in the in-between of sleep and waking, he thought of her. He hummed softly, cracked his eyes open and grazed his hand up her thigh, the curve of her hip, her torso and cupped her cheek. “You look rested. Did you sleep alright?”

“Mhm,” she murmured, inched her fingers down his throat. “I did, thank you,” she told him, then Taashath slowly opened her eyes, met his gaze and decided to jump in, head first. What did she have to lose? “Would you let me touch you?” she asked, tentative. He blinked, and she felt his fingers flex against her jaw. “I want...” she bit her lip. “I would like to touch you.” Her fingers curled into the collar of his shirt, knuckles brushing against his collarbone.

It took a moment for him to react, then his hand slid back down her body, cupped the curve of her hip, and tugged her lower body closer to his before he took her mouth with his. A soft moan escaped her lips and she took that as a yes, and let her hand glide down his chest, then up under his shirt. Her fingers splayed over his stomach and he made a sound, kissed her harder.

A quiet gasp escaped her lips when she felt Cullen tug her over him. One moment they had been lying side by side and the next, she was straddling his thighs, while he kissed her deeply. She couldn't resist the small smile that quirked up the corner of her lips. “Is that a yes?” she asked. He wanted her. She was very glad he was seemingly as eager as she felt.

Cupping the back of her head with one hand, the other brushed along her jaw before his thumb stroked her lower lip. “Yes,” he said, his voice low, and emphatic.

Taashath parted her lips, her tongue flicked out to stroke over his thumb, while watching his face. His eyes grew darker, and the hand at the back of her head tightened slightly. “Like before?” she murmured, kissing his palm, then his wrist. “If you don't like something-”

“I'll tell you,” he told her, then tugged her mouth back up to his. The kiss took her breath. When he broke away, Taashath felt a bit lightheaded. “Alright,” he rasped. “Do with me as you will, my lady.”

She blinked, suddenly unsure. Taashath knew what she wanted. She wanted to kiss his body, touch it like he had her own. But she didn't know what to do first.

“Taasha,” Cullen murmured, his hand catching hers, he lifted it to his lips, pressed a kiss to it, then led it down to the hem of his shirt. She dipped her fingers beneath the fabric, felt taut muscle, smooth skin, and the wisps of hair below his belly button.

Cautiously, watching his face, she shifted down his body, until she knelt between his legs before she pushed the shirt up a bit. His eyes never left hers and she could feel her blood pounding through her veins. She saw his hand resting on the bed from the corner of her eye, his fingers flexed. Then, she dipped her head down, pressed a kiss just above his waistband.

“Taasha,” her name was barely a breath and his hand clenched into a fist. She met his gaze again, pushed the shirt up higher, leaving a trail of kisses up the center of his chest as she went.

“Can we take this off?” she asked him, her lips brushing against his skin as she spoke.

“Maker,” he groaned, pushed up just enough to yank the shirt off and toss it away. His fingers slid through her hair but then went back to his sides.

Taashath grazed her fingers from his waist, along his ribs, traced a scar here, and one there, before she ran the tip of one finger over his nipple. “Cullen,” she murmured. “You can-” she bit her lip, suddenly unsure. “You can still touch me if you want.”

He shook his head and just that quickly, all the desire she'd been feeling had been doused like water on a campfire. She sat up quickly, confused. If he didn't want her then why-

Cullen groaned, he caught her arms as she started to move away and yanked her back down over him where he claimed her mouth, hard. His tongue stroked against hers and one hand speared into her hair, angling her head just the way he wanted it. “I want you,” he said against her lips. “Maker's breath, Taasha, I want you. You said you wanted to touch me. I want to let you. If I touch you, I'm going to end up pinning you beneath me. I _want_ to let you touch me.” He nipped at her lower lip. “So I'm going to keep my hands to myself for a while, alright?”

Taashath nodded her head, feeling a bit dazed. Heat pooled between her thighs and she was almost willing to let him take control and pin her under him and- she shook the image from her head and kissed her way along his jaw, then sunk her teeth lightly into his jaw. He cursed quietly and as she stretched her body back over his, she could feel the bulge of his cock against her belly. She rocked against it, heard her name catch on his lips and smiled before she licked over one flat nipple.

 


	18. Claimed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More smut.  
> Not feelings.  
> Definitely none of those.  
> No angst yet either. Soon, but not quite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I happened to the next chapter written, no long wait! (I'm not one to hold onto chapters and pace myself... if it's written it's getting posted!)
> 
> The next chapter will be a ways off more than likely since I'll be moving here in just a few weeks and have to do the frantic pack/apartment clean thing while still working.

She took her time, kissing his chest, his shoulders, down over his belly. Cullen had lost the battle with himself a few times, and she'd enjoyed it. Once when she'd gently closed her teeth around one of his nipples, his hand had fisted in her hair. When she'd trailed her tongue along his ribs, he'd slid a hand over her horn. When she had accidentally pressed her breasts into his trouser-clad length, he'd sat up, yanked her shirt off, tugged at her breast band, and kissed her soundly.

 

“You're a tease,” he panted out as her fingers untied his pants.

 

She licked her lips, dragged them down his legs and swallowed as she took in the thick length of him curving up to rest against his belly. “Teasing would imply I don't intend to follow through,” she murmured absently, her hands sliding along his thighs.

 

“Fuck, Taash,” he whined and she glanced up, met his gaze and she felt more courage than she'd ever felt before looking up at him. She curled a hand around him. He was rigid, hard in her hand, but the skin was soft beneath her fingers. Taashath noticed the liquid weeping from the slit at the head of his cock and brought her other hand up lightly brushed a fingertip over it. Heard Cullen curse again. “Please, Taasha, please.”

 

“Would you like it if I put my mouth on you?” she asked, licking her lips. “I liked having your mouth on me.”

 

Cullen stared down at her, his mouth hanging open. “Yes,” he panted. “Yes, Taasha, darling, please, please, plea-” his words broke off when she leaned forward and ran her tongue over the head. She imagined that the strangled noise he made was a good one since he hadn't told her to stop. His hands flexed and clenched at his sides.

 

Taashath closed her lips around him, her tongue swirled and she felt his hips rock up slightly. She was grateful that he'd let her explore him, but now she wasn't sure what she was doing, wanted to make sure he enjoyed it. She reached out, found his hand, and led it to her head. Releasing his cock with a soft pop of her lips she met his heated gaze. “Teach me,” she murmured, felt his fingers curl around her horn, and she slipped her fingers around his length before wrapping her lips around him again.

 

 

Cullen was lost to the pleasure, the feel of Taasha's lips and fingers had been something between Heaven and Hell. Torture of the sweetest kind. Her touch was tentative, but then she'd gained confidence as she explored and Cullen could have died a happy man.

 

Now, with her lips and her fingers on his cock, it was nice, but not enough. His fingers curled around her horn, and part of him wanted to fuck her mouth, spill himself between her lips, but he had other plans. He let her lick and suck and restrained himself as long as he could.

 

Tugging her mouth off him, he pulled her up over him. “Ride me, Taasha, I want you to-” his fingers dipped between her thighs and he groaned at how wet she was. “You enjoyed having your lips wrapped around me?” he asked, sliding first one, then another finger inside of her.

 

Her back arched. “Yes,” she gasped out, her hips rocking against his hand. Cullen stroked her clit, a few quick flicks of his thumb before he withdrew his fingers and gripped her hip with one hand, his other going to his cock. He stroked himself along her slit, wanted to drive himself up into her, but he waited.

 

“Lower yourself onto me, darling,” he said. Taashath rocked her hips, rubbed against him, he slipped inside an inch and her head fell back, a moan escaping her lips. “That's it,” he murmured, his hand leaving his cock to stroke up her thigh, along her belly, up to her breast. “Taasha.”

 

Cullen was entranced. The way her body moved over his was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen. Her thighs pressed against his hips, her back arched one of his hands shifted from her hip, his fingers dipped between her folds where he teased her clit.

 

Taasha gasped, her hips jerked and he watched her press her hand to her mouth, to stifle the sounds she was making. “Don't you dare,” he rasped, reaching his other hand up to drag her fingers from her mouth. “I want to hear you.”

 

“Cullen,” she choked out, quiet and indignant.

 

Sacrificing his view of his cock sliding wetly into her core, he leaned forward, lapped at her nipple, sucked it between his lips. When the sound she made wasn't loud enough, when it didn't echo off the vaulted ceiling, he closed his teeth around it gently.

 

She cried out. Her hips bucking, core clenching, her nails dug into his shoulders and Cullen shifted, spread his legs and planted his feet so he could drive up into her harder, desperate to fill her. She clung to him, her arms wrapped around his shoulders, her breasts pressed into his chest, her cheek pressed to his. “Taasha,” he said against her shoulder, his fingers digging harder into her hips as her rhythm began to falter.

 

She said his name, again and again, a pleading mantra. “Let me hear you,” he said, one of his hands slid up the curve of her spine, wrapped around her hair and tugged her head down to his. Her eyes were heavy-lidded when they met his.

 

“Please, Cullen, please,” she whimpered, then bit down hard on her lip.

 

He knew she was close, knew what she wanted, but he was unwilling to release his hold on her. “Stroke your clit, darling,” he told her. “Slip your hand down and stroke that sweet little pearl and come for me.”

 

Her fingers clenched on his shoulders, then, she slid her hand between them. Taashath's lips parted and Cullen's need to feel her come apart was borderline desperate. “That's it, darling. Maker, you feel-” he broke off with a groan has her inner walls clenched around him. Her head fell back, the movement of her hips almost erratic. Her thighs were trembling and he could feel the quick brush of her fingers as she stroked her clit.

 

He felt his own impending release. She jerked in his arms, her fingers dug into his side as she came. “Cul-Cul-Uh!”

 

“Louder,” he managed out, bucking harder beneath her.

 

“Fuck!” Taashath quaked against him and Cullen gave into the pleasure with a yell of his own before he collapsed back against the pillows, Taasha's cheek against his shoulder, her breath unsteady puffs against his sweat-damp skin. He wrapped one arm around her, then fumbled for the blanket with the other to drag it up over her back.

 

They lay there for a long time, the only sound was their ragged breathing. Cullen hated himself. He'd meant to talk to her about what was going on between them before he did this again. But the way she'd looked at him when she'd asked to touch him. He pressed his face against the top of her head and tightened his arms around her.

 

If he hurt her, he'd never forgive himself. “Taasha,” he said softly, felt her shift against him. They were still joined, his half hard cock enjoying the subtle aftershocks of her core. She lifted her head to meet his gaze, but he kept his arms around her, not wanting to lose the feeling of her body, lush and soft against his.

 

“Hmm?” she murmured, drowsily.

 

He was a bastard, he thought, one hand reaching up to stroke her cheek. Her eyes fluttered shut and she leaned into the touch. “We need to talk,” he finally managed to get the words out.

 

Her eyes fluttered open again, brow knitted. “About what?”

 

He was worse that Backwall, Rainier. He'd taken the time to bed her and now he was going to hurt her. “This,” he said and she frowned. “When I offered to show you what sex was, I hadn't meant-” he broke off. He had hoped that once he'd slaked his lust by bedding her, he'd have been satisfied, but it only seemed to make him want her more. “This wasn't meant to be a relationship-” he tried.

 

Taashath sat up, felt the shift of him inside her. “I don't want forever from you Cullen. You told me before you were not interested. I didn't expect that that had changed. You are my friend. The only person I have ever been truly comfortable with. I hadn't thought you'd want to bed me again, that you'd allow me to explore your body like you did mine. If I made you feel-” she was at a loss for words, couldn't find the ones she wanted. “I understand that you don't want...” me, she didn't voice the word, because it caused an ache in her chest she didn't understand.

 

It was only sex, she understood that. Like Bull had offered. Nothing more, she knew that Cullen would never want more than that with her, and to be perfectly honest, she wasn't sure if _she_ wanted more either. The only _more_ she knew she wanted, was more of the pleasure he'd wrung from her. But if Cullen didn't want it, she'd understand that as well. “I'm sorry, Cullen,” she told him, shifting backwards to climb off the bed. She'd dress and go to her own room and hope that she hadn't ruined their friendship.

 

His fingers gripping her hips and tugging her back against him caught her by surprise. She gasped softly, feeling him swell inside of her. “Don't apologize,” he said, taking her onto her back, he pressed into her and her breath caught. He cupped her jaw with one hand, while the other found her hand, pressed it into the mattress beside her head. “Don't apologize for this, Taasha.” He rolled his hips against hers, then felt one of her legs slide up until her thigh pressed against his side. “Friendship and sex, it will never be more than that, Taasha. If you still want,” he murmured, keeping his movements slow and deep. “I will bed you anytime you want, darling. Just say the word.”

 

Her free hand slid to cup the back of his head, he could see the pleasure in her eyes and knew he'd never grow tired of it. “And you-” her hips tilted up, and Cullen groaned as he slipped deeper. “But promise,” she moaned, back arching. “Promise that whoever ends this, whenever this ends,” a soft cry as Cullen's hand slid from her jaw to tug her thigh up higher. “We stay friends. I can't, I won't lose you because of sex. Or we end this right now.”

 

Cullen stared at her, her eyes half closed, but so serious. “That is a promise, darling.” Then he sealed it with a kiss. She clung to him and he to her. Orgasm washed over him first, but he didn't stop, he kept driving into her, his hand slipping down to help push her over the edge.

 

Much, much later, Cullen climbed out of bed to grab the tray of food, then settled back against the headboard, with Taasha sprawled sideways on the bed, her head resting in his lap. She'd tugged off the metal horn cap so that she could lay a bit more comfortably. Cullen fed her bites of the soft cheese and fruit between bites of his own.

 

“We should return to Skyhold in the morning,” Taashath murmured, her eyes slipping shut and Cullen traced a fingertip over the scars around her lips.

 

“What of Bla-Rainier? Have you decided what you'll do?”

 

“I have,” was all she said. Cullen didn't press. A part of him hoped that she'd allow him to hang, but he knew Taashath well enough that she'd never consider it.

 

They finished eating, then, Cullen slid down Taashath's body, teased her with lips and tongue and fingers until she shouted his name to the heavens. She pushed him onto his back, retaliated until she had him begging. Taashath rode him again, more confident this time and after, Cullen held her, his fingers absently tracing the marks he'd left on her skin. As if he had the right to mark her.

 

But seeing as how she'd left her own marks on him, for now, he supposed, they were claimed.

 


	19. Intimate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Look at this Awesome, fantastic, and utterly amazing art of [Taashath](https://wardsarefunctioning.tumblr.com/post/172607893367/ive-been-itching-to-draw-a-qunari-so-i-tried-my) by Wardsarefunctioning on Tumblr.

As soon as they returned to Skyhold, Taashath called a meeting in the war room to discuss how to get Thom Rainier out of prison. Cullen hadn't mentioned him since the night they spent in Val Royeaux, though she knew he was curious about her decision of what to do with him. Taashath understood his anger with the man, but enough to let him hang? Despite all the good he had done?

“Josephine,” Taashath said. “I would prefer your solution.” The Inquisition had plenty of money and favor. Granted, some may not approve, may look poorly upon the Inquisition for her choice, but she felt it was better than someone else dying for Thom, or storming the prison with soldiers. She couldn't imagine that would end well.

“Of course, my lady. I will see to it at once,” Josephine told her.

“Thank you, the sooner we can get him back to Skyhold where he belongs, the better.” They discussed a handful of other matters that she would need to see to. A trip back to the Hinterlands and to the Hissing Wastes among other places.

The whole while Taashath felt distracted by Cullen. He was relatively quiet, only voicing his thoughts when asked directly. He had not seemed to sleep much on their return journey and Taashath couldn't help but worry that it might have been because of her. Cullen had slipped into her tent the first night, then she his the next, back and forth, until they had arrived back at Skyhold.

“ _They'll hear,” she choked out, her nails scraping his back as he pushed into her again and again. She knew that they had to have heard at Skyhold. Could not imagine anyone doubted what was going on in her tent._

“ _Let them,” he said._

“ _Cullen,” it was a whimper. She was so close to the edge, but this was different. The soft night sounds and the crackle of wood on the fire. It was a peace she didn't want to disturb._

_He stared into Taashath's eyes for several moments, then he claimed her mouth, swallowing her cries as pleasure took her._

The next time she'd sunk her teeth into his shoulder. A mark she knew he still bore. Taashath had offered both salve and magic, but Cullen brushed both away. The latter she understood and had only offered out of reflex.

Meeting dismissed, Josephine went to work writing letters and calling in favors to get Thom Rainier released into their custody. Cullen went out to the training field with the troops and Taashath went to speak with Dagna about having a new blade put on the end of her staff.

 

“Do you have a moment, Dorian?” Taashath asked, finding him later on in the day.

“Of course, my dear, what do you need?”

“Let's walk,” she said and they stepped out on to the battlements. She had been trying to figure out the words all day. How to properly ask, but they still eluded her. “I had sex with Cullen and accidentally lit the bed on fire.” The words came out in a rush and Dorian simply blinked at her. “I had never...” she trailed off. “Saarebas are not allowed pleasure.”

Realization flickered in his gaze. “So that was the first time you had-” she nodded. “Ah, I see.”

“I am afraid I will do it again. Lose control of my magic. That I might,” she shrugged, “do something worse.”

“Have you lost control since that first time?” he asked gently.

“No.”

“Then the Commander isn't trying hard enough.”

There was a curve to his lip and Taashath flushed. “Dorian, please,” she was desperate. She enjoyed the time she spent with Cullen and was terrified that she might ruin it. “Cullen doesn't like magic. I don't want-” _to hurt him. To remind him of what I am._

“If the man has a problem with you being a mage, he doesn't deserve you.” She pursed her lips, beginning to think that Dorian had been the wrong choice for this matter and that Solas might have been a bit more helpful. “I lit the curtains on fire just last week,” he told her and she frowned at him, confused. “Magic can happen, especially when one is enjoying themselves. But I did mean what I said if he can't accept that if he has a problem-”

Taashath shook her head. No, Cullen had been utterly calm when she'd done it. He'd soothed her and hadn't shunned her for the slip. But if it happened again? She wasn't sure what he'd do.

“Are you doing something to ensure that you don't get with child?” he asked and she felt her face flush again. “Unless that is the goal?”

She shook her head again. “No, I mean, yes. I mean-” she took a slow breath. “I spoke with Cassandra about that matter.” It had been, surprisingly, not awkward when she had asked the other woman for guidance.

“Then try not to worry, my dear.”

 

Cullen had felt restless since they arrived back at Skyhold. Taasha's very vocal concerns about the liar they had known as Blackwall rankled him. It wasn't fair, and Cullen knew that. He knew that the core of his anger stemmed from Rainier's betrayal of his men, but something about her words in the war room, her worry, had soured his mood.

Foolish, he knew. She had chosen him after all.

Even after telling her it would only ever be sex between them.

 _And if Rainier offered her more?_ Jaw clenched he stepped out of his office, desperate to banish the thoughts. He went to the tavern, had a pint but it was too loud and he felt his agitation growing. _The gardens might be a better idea,_ he thought. _It would be quiet at that hour._ He walked down the empty hall and paused outside Taashath's room. The door was open part way and he peered inside.

Taasha sat curled up in the chair, book in her lap. Her hair was damp and fell loose over her shoulders. He was struck with the image of her in the baths and Cullen wished he had been in there with her.

_The slide of wet skin._

_Soap suds clinging to a pebbled nipple._

“Cullen?” Taasha's voice pulled him from his musings. She was looking at him, head canted to the side, gold eyes glinting in the candlelight.

“You should stay in my quarters, to sleep, I mean. You had said you were comfortable there,” he said and brought a hand up to rub the back of his neck. Cullen had no idea where the words had come from. It wasn’t something he’d given any thought to.

“I don't want,” she bit her lip and Cullen's gaze dragged down to her mouth, imagined sinking his teeth into her lower lip as she arched beneath him. “You didn't seem to sleep particularly well the last few nights.”

Cullen didn't realize she had noticed., he tore his gaze from her mouth, looked into her eyes again, her expression was soft, but he could see the worry knitting her brow together. “And you believe that was because of you?” She shrugged one shoulder. “I have never slept well when traveling,” he admitted because she had to know it wasn’t because of her. “I can tell you that I very much enjoyed having you next to me.” The warmth of her body curled against his. The sweet smile she had granted him when he’d woken her just before dawn with kisses.

Setting aside her book, she stood and crossed the room to where he still leaned in the doorway. “Are you certain?”

Tipping his head back to look up at her, for just a moment he reconsidered his words. _Would it be too much?_ But she had agreed with him, friends and sex. And if her staying in his quarters happened to discourage a certain someone, all the better. “I am,” he answered, sliding one hand around her waist, the other up to touch the ends of her damp hair. “I wish I'd known you were going to bathe, I would have liked to join you.”

Taashath slid her hands along his shoulders, one hand slipped into his hair and she ducked her head down to press a kiss to his mouth. “Next time,” she murmured and Cullen's grip on her tightened.

“Come to bed, darling,” he said against her lips.

 

Everyone was on edge it seemed to Taashath and they had been since Rainier had been brought to Skyhold in the early morning hours, nearly two weeks after they had returned from Orlais, and locked in one of the cells below. Now she sat in the only chair that dwarfed her. People filled the hall, awaiting her judgment of the man formerly known to them all as Warden Blackwall.

Cullen was tense at the edge of the platform and Taashath wanted to go to him, to soothe the furrow between his brows. Ease whatever it was that stressed him so.

Rainier was brought in by the guards, shackled and defeated. He looked weary and Taashath’s heart ached. “What did it take to get me out of the Orlesian prison?” he asked, keeping his head downcast.

“A few favors,” Taashath said and watched as he shook his head.

“Favors for a criminal. They’ll all see how corrupt the Inquisition is,” he said bitterly.

She shrugged. “This will be forgotten.”

After a short silence, he spoke again. “What will you do with me then?”

She caught the movement out of the corner of her eye. Cullen, shifting his stance, so he could look at her. Taashath met his gaze and hoped that he’d approve of her decision. “You will do as you set out to do before. You will join the Grey Wardens, truly, as Thom Rainier, and prove to the world that you are as good a man as I know you are.”

Whispers broke out among the crowd and Cullen looked away. Thom Rainier looked up, surprise evident on his face. “I would like to stay, for now, to help deal with Corypheus, that is, if you’ll allow it, my lady.”

Taashath inclined her head and then Rainier was released from his shackles. She stood up and crossed the dais to him. “Get cleaned up. We’re leaving for the Hissing Wastes first thing in the morning.”

He reached out, taking her hands in his. “My thanks, my lady. What you have done for me,” he ducked his head and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “I can never repay you.”

Taashath squeezed his hands. “You’ll fight by my side until the end, that is how you’ll repay me.”

 

Cullen tipped his head back and closed his eyes as he sat on the stone seat that ran the length of the inset bath. The lone occupant of the baths meant it was silent, save for the rush of water from the fountain that kept the water hot and clean. He could feel himself relaxing incrementally, just so long as he didn’t picture Rainier kissing Taasha’s knuckles again.

There was a soft shush of fabric and Cullen’s eyes popped open, annoyed that his reprieve was being interrupted. Until he realized that the woman who stood at the edge of the large sunken tub was none other than Taashath and she had already discarded her shirt and shoes. She met his gaze and dropped the breast band next.

She finished tripping and never taking her gaze from his, stepped into the water. Her fingertips skimmed over the water, causing gentle ripples as she crossed toward him. Cullen couldn’t help but reach out, his fingers sliding over her thighs beneath the water as she slid into his lap. One of her hands slid along his shoulders while the other reached up, her index finger rubbing lightly between his brows. “What has you so stressed?” she asked him.

All the stress he’d been feeling evaporated. “Nothing,” he told her, his hands kneading her hips.

“Don’t lie, I know-” she pursed her lips. “You don’t agree with my decision on the matter of Blackwall.”

“That isn’t-” he broke off. He didn’t disagree with her decision. Thom Rainier had meant to join the Wardens, he should do just that. But Rainier’s decision to stay until the matter with Corypheus was taken care of is what Cullen had a problem with. “You made the right choice,” he told her.

“But you-”

Cullen leaned up, nipped at her lower lip, then kissed her softly. “You made the right choice,” he repeated.

Taashath hummed softly, then he felt her reach behind him, she came back with the bar of soap and dunked it into the water before leaning back enough to work up a lather between her hands. “You mentioned wishing you’d been able to bathe with me before,” she said, setting the soap aside before sliding her hands along his shoulders, kneading his muscles and making him groan. “Baths were always a moment of freedom, while still being leashed,” she murmured.

Cullen’s hands tightened on her hips, then reached up to grab the bar of soap, work a lather between his own hands and then he slid them up her arms, skimmed her breasts, ran them along her shoulders and down her back. “No more leashes, Taasha,” he told her and caught her faint smile. Each one was so rare, they always took his breath.

“I never bathed alone until I was taken in by the Valo-Kas. I reveled in it, being alone, just sitting in the quiet, letting the water lap at my skin.”

Guilt stopped Cullen’s hands on her back. Another thing he hadn’t considered. Under constant watch. A moment of peace would be cherished. He opened his mouth, to apologize. When he’d suggested sharing a bath, his mind had been clouded with lust, not to say that it wasn’t distinctly hazy at that moment, his cock more than half-hard, trapped between their stomachs.

She kissed him, not letting him speak. “It’s quiet,” she murmured, kissing down his throat. “Private,” a soft nip at his throat, then up to his ear. “Intimate.”

His hands gripped her tighter and he groaned when she shifted her hips, rubbing along his cock. “Taasha,” Cullen breathed her name. An idea struck, he shifted forward, one hand cupping her behind, while the other gripped one of her thighs. Then he stood.

Taashath gasped. “What are you-”

“Put your legs around me, darling,” he said, the water allowing him to easily bare her weight. He crossed the large tub, grateful for the ridiculously over the top luxury. Cullen pressed her back against the stone wall of the tub, the water coming to just above their waists.

“It would appear you have me at your mercy,” she told him, her hands sliding over his shoulders and along his biceps. “What will you do with me now, Commander?”


	20. Orders

Cullen claimed Taashath’s mouth, then her body. All the tension Cullen had been feeling was now gone and replaced with contentment. “I am surprised no one has interrupted us,” he said as they finally climbed from the tub. Cullen slung a towel around his waist then used the one Taasha had wrapped around her to tug her closer. He noticed the way she was biting her lip, looking a bit sheepish. “What?” he asked.

“I wedged a chair under the doorknob,” she explained.

He laughed, pushed up onto his tiptoes, cupped the back of her head and kissed her. “Maker, you are wonderful.”

 

They woke early the next morning and dressed for the day. Cullen walked down the stairs toward the stables with Taashath. “Taasha,” he said, taking her hand and tugging her to a stop. She stood on the next step down, putting them at eye level. “You’ll be careful,” Cullen said, his thumb tracing her bottom lip.

A barely there smile curved her lips. “Is that an order, Commander?”

“It absolutely is, Inquisitor.” He kissed her softly, his fingers stroking her jaw. The kiss made her heart beat faster. Pressing his forehead against hers, Cullen sighed softly. One last kiss and Cullen released her and she continued to make her way to the stables.

Rainier stood in the doorway, shoulder against the frame, arms over his chest. He had cleaned up but there was a darkness in his eyes. “Is there a problem?” she asked, canting her head to the side.

He rubbed his hand over his mouth and shook his head. “No,” he told her, turning away to the horses.

“It feels weird to call you Rainier,” she commented as she moved up to take care of her own horse.

“Then don’t,” he said with a shrug. “Keep calling me Blackwall, consider it more of a title than a name. Like how you’re the Inquisitor. Something for me to work toward, to be better.”

Taashath pursed her lips, glanced over at him, his movements were jerky, his lips pursed and brow knit. “Thom,” she said softly and he froze, then slowly looked at her. “You are better,” she told him. “But if that is what you wish, I will continue to call you Blackwall.” His jaw was clenched and she couldn’t help but wonder, why? “If you changed your mind and would rather leave the Inquisition now, I will not hold it against you.”

“That isn’t-” he broke off, paced away, then back. “You and Commander Cullen- he is a good man.”

Taashath felt her cheeks burn hot and she ducked her head. “He is a good man,” she said quietly.

“If he hurts you,” he left the threat hanging, but she recognized it for what it was.

“We’re just friends,” she said and didn’t miss the disbelieving look on his face. “It’s sex, but we’re just friends. He won’t hurt me.”

“You deserve better than that,” Blackwall said, returning to saddling the other horses for their companions.

Taashath waved off the comment. She knew better. The arrangement she had with Cullen wasn’t going anywhere and she accepted that. She enjoyed his company, she enjoyed _everything_. It was only a matter of time before she would be going up against Corypheus, a battle where she wasn’t so sure she’d come out on top. Iron Bull appeared and then so did Varric and within a few minutes, they were off.

Cullen watched their departure from his place on the battlements, sent up a silent prayer to the Maker to watch over her before heading down to train with the troops.

 

It was very late by the time Taashath and her companions rode through the gates of Skyhold several weeks later. Cullen was standing there, waiting. She was obviously exhausted, but still, she offered him a hint of a smile when she saw him. “Have a basin of hot water sent up to my quarters,” he said to the soldier standing beside him.

“Commander?” Cullen shot the man a sharp look. “Yes, sir,” he saluted him and then quickly hurried away while Cullen followed Taashath down to the stables, Rainier, Iron Bull, and Varric looked as worn out as she did. “Why didn’t you set up camp?” Cullen asked as they made their way to his office, her arm linked through his.

“I was so tired of camping, I didn’t want to be on the road anymore,” she admitted, tilting her head down she rested it against Cullen’s for a moment.

The gesture caught him off guard, he leaned back into her and was very grateful that she had returned, instead of taking another day to rest. He had missed her company, missed her beside him. “Up the ladder,” he said and watched her tilt her head back and stare up its length.

“Maker, sometimes I hate this thing,” she muttered, curled her fingers around the rungs and sighed. “But then I see the stars,” her lips curved and she glanced at Cullen. “You’ll catch me if I fall, right?” she jested before dragging herself up the ladder.

Cullen stood at the base of the ladder, watched her ascend, before locking the doors of his office and following her. He couldn’t help but smile as he reached the top. Taashath had been sitting at the foot of the bed, but it looked as if she’d been too tired to even finish taking off her boots. One boot was unlaced halfway, and she was sprawled on her back, one arm curled beneath her head, face turned to the side, gold cap at her hip.

He crouched down at her feet, finished unlacing and removing her boots. “Darling,” he said softly, one knee resting on the bed beside her thigh. He cupped her cheek, his thumb stroking over the curve of it.

She made a quiet sound, squeezed her eyes shut tighter. “I’m just resting my eyes, just for a moment,” she mumbled, rubbing her cheek against his hand.

Cullen grinned, ducked his head to brush a light kiss on her lips. “Of course you are, come on, sit up for just a few minutes.” He drew back and saw her pout before her eyes cracked open. Taking her hands in his he tugged her up into a sit and began unbuttoning her shirt. He tossed it aside along with her breast band, his fingers itched to trace her curves, to kiss her skin, but she was too tired. He could restrain himself until she’d gotten a good nights sleep.

He found the basin of water, still warm, with a soft cloth laying beside it. After wetting it and wringing it out he stepped back over to Taashath, where she sat, shoulders slumped and eyes closed, and gently wiped the cloth along her forehead, then her cheeks and down her neck. Cullen heard her hum softly and she leaned into him. “I enjoyed our bath together,” Cullen murmured, dipping the cloth, wringing it out and then running it over her shoulders and her arms. “If I wasn’t certain you’d drown in your current state, I’d insist.”

“Are you saying I’m filthy?” she asked, eyes slitting open to peer at him.

“You’re covered in road dust, my darling.” He kissed the back of her hand, wrung out the cloth again. He wiped down her back and over her chest, then after removing her pants he gave her legs and feet the same treatment while she collapsed back on the bed again. Cullen pressed a kiss to her knee, then felt her fingers in his hair.

“I missed you,” she murmured, looking down at him, eyes glinting in the light of the single oil lamp by the bed. Then her brow furrowed. “I shouldn’t have… should I? That isn’t, we are not-”

Cullen rose over her, knee on the bed, rested his weight on his arm beside her head and he kissed her, slow and soft. “I missed you,” he murmured. He heard her sigh softly and pulled back again. “It’s late, you’re exhausted.” Tugging on her hands again he made her sit up, then tugged the blankets down on the bed before nudging her up the bed. “Go lay down,” he told her and began stripping out of his own clothes. He watched her twist onto her hands and knees and crawl up the bed and was hit with the image of taking her on her knees.

Then she stretched out on her stomach and he felt something in his chest tighten, and he wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around her and hold her. Ridding himself of the rest of his clothes, Cullen climbed into bed beside her, tugged the blanket up and doused the light before he stretched out on his side next to her. Her eyes were closed, her breathing slow and even. Exhausted, but Maker, he was glad she was back.

 

Taashath woke to the feel of soft lips against the back of her neck. She hummed softly, stretched and angled her head to glance at Cullen.

“Did you sleep well, Darling?”

She sighed happily, her eyes slipping shut as Cullen moved over her and straddled her thighs. He tugged the blanket down and a moan escaped her lips when she felt his hands press into the tight muscles at the base of her spine. “You should rest today,” he said as he began to knead the muscles, working up and down her back and along her shoulders.

“So much to do,” she murmured, though she was content to stay right where she was, so long as Cullen didn’t stop.

He leaned over, nipped at her ear. “It’ll keep, you’re exhausted. No harm in taking a day to rest.”

“And I suppose that suggestion has nothing to do with the bulge pressing against my rear?” Cullen went still over her and she peered back to look at him.

“I’d be more than willing to leave you alone if you’d rather,” he said and his weight shifted.

Taashath’s hand shot out and she curled it around Cullen’s thigh. “Not so fast,” she tugged. “Come back here.”

“Is that an order?” Cullen asked, leaning back down over her, nuzzling the back of her neck.

“Yes,” Taashath moaned softly, tipping her face forward, giving him more access to the back of her neck.

Cullen grinned against her skin. “Any other orders, Inquisitor?” he asked, trailing his hands down her sides.

“Don’t stop,” she told him.

“As you say, my lady,” he murmured and then slowly kissed his way down her spine.


	21. Demons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so happy to know that people are still reading this and enjoying it! 
> 
> Here comes the angst, I'm so (not) sorry! :D

They had settled into a routine of sorts when Taashath was at Skyhold. They spent their days seeing to their own duties, enjoyed supper together, then they would both retire to Cullen’s office where he took up a place at his desk and saw to paperwork and replied to missives, while Taashath would stretch out with her book on the couch he had brought in while she’d been away. When the hour would grow late they would climb the ladder and climb into bed, sometimes they had sex, sometimes they just held each other, touched, exchanged soft kisses before sleep took them.

It left Taashath feeling more contentment than she’d ever imagined. Some nights she would slip her arms around his shoulders from behind and beckon him to put down the quill and come to bed. Others, Cullen would climb onto the couch that was far too small for the both of them, and rest his head against her chest and doze off to the feel of her fingers in his hair.

Cullen wouldn’t admit, that despite the nightmares and withdrawal that still plagued him, it was the most relaxed he’d been in a long time. He worried about Taasha while she was away and was always grateful when she returned.

The nightmares were familiar. Not always exactly the same, but similar enough. It was always the same demon and it always took Talon’s form. He had nearly given in, despite the nagging tug of reality that tried to pull him back. But this time the demon didn’t morph into the woman he had adored all those years ago.

Taashath suddenly stood before him, beckoning him with that little smile of hers. His heart skipped. He stepped forward, reached out to her. _Taasha_.

“Cullen?” Warm fingers sliding over bare skin. His eyes snapped open. A glint of gold, a curve of black horn.

_Demon_! His mind screamed still trapped in the nightmare haze.

_Not a demon,_ _Taasha_. But he flinched. _Maker, please don’t let her have noticed._ He tossed back the blankets. “Go back to sleep,” he said quietly, knowing she had an early morning and his mind was far too restless now to relax. “I’m fine.” He got up from the bed and tugged on his trousers before heading for the ladder.

Cullen caught a glimpse of her face in the moonlight as he descended the ladder. Saw the worry written so clearly on her features as she sat up, sheet pooled around her waist. But he couldn’t bring himself to go back to her.

 

“ _No, no, I will not give into you,”_ Cullen’s voice had pulled Taashath from her dreams and she turned to him, reached out. She saw panic in his eyes as he flinched away from her. A nightmare, she knew. He’d had them other nights, but this one seemed to be worse. He’d never gotten up, never left the bed.

There were times where she would hear him talking, arguing with the demons in his head. She would reach out, wrap her arms around him and sometimes it calmed him. Other times he’d wake and she would feel his arms tighten around her.

Her chest felt tight as she sat alone in bed. She heard the scrape of his chair down in his office, a rustling of papers and then a heavy sigh. After a few minutes of silence, she climbed out of bed and tugged her tunic on before she made her way down the ladder.

“What are you doing up?” he asked, his head lifting from where it had been resting against his palm.

“What’s wrong?” Taashath asked.

“Nothing,” he said, waving his hand as he started shuffling the papers on his desk. “You should be sleeping, you have a lot to do tomorrow.”

“As do you,” she crossed over to him and held her breath as she reached out, fingers lightly touching his shoulder. “Come back to bed.” He didn’t flinch and she wasn’t sure she’d ever felt so relieved.

“No,” he said with a shake of his head. He reached up, patted her hand. “I have things to do. I’m fine, you should sleep while you can.”

Resigned, she withdrew.

Taashath hadn’t been able to fall back to sleep and had simply lain there, listening to the quiet sounds from Cullen’s office. As soon as the sun began to show its first hint of light in the sky, she dressed and descended.

Cullen looked up a tired frown on his face. “There are a few things I wanted to take care of before we depart,” she explained.

“Right,” Cullen said with a quiet nod. “Did you-” he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Did you sleep alright?”

“It was fine,” she lied. “I did miss having you beside me though.” Cullen looked away and Taashath’s chest felt tight. “I’ll see you in a week or so,” she told him, heading for the door.

“Be safe,” Cullen called after her and she waved her hand, acknowledging his words without turning back.

 

In Val Royeaux, once matters with Josephine were resolved, Taashath left her companions, anxious for a moment alone. She stared up at the Chantry. She hadn’t been in once since Haven, but she knew that many of her companions were faithful and found some sort of comfort. All she had ever had before was the Qun. Rules to live and to die by. Even with the knowledge that it had been the Divine behind her and not Andraste, some still believed her to be chosen.

She glanced down at her marked hand, then back up at the massive doors. Taking a deep breath she stepped through. It was empty of people at the moment and she was grateful for that since she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do. Slowly, Taashath walked down the aisle and came to a stop at the table covered in candles. Some lit, some not. Peering up at the statue of Andraste she frowned. “I don’t know what I am doing. I probably don’t belong here either, since I am not even sure if I believe. But Cullen does, my friends do.”

Picking up one of the long matches she lit the end with one of the other candles and held the flame to the wick of an unlit one. “Watch over them, please, Cullen, he has been through so much. I want him to find peace, but I don’t know how to help him,” because he wouldn’t let her help. Taashath blew out the match then tipped her face up to look at the statue. “I wouldn’t say no to a little guidance myself if it isn’t too much trouble.”

A door slammed somewhere, making her jump. One of the sisters appeared, a look of disgust on her face as she stared at Taashath. “You do not belong here.”

Taashath opened her mouth, then snapped it shut, taken back by the woman’s harsh words. “I just wanted-”

“Maker strike you down for claiming to be equal to our beloved Andraste.”

“I never claimed to be,” she said, wondering just how many times she would have to go over this.

“The Qunari are wicked and evil. I was at Kirkwall, I know your sins.”

Taashath didn’t bother pointing out that she had not been at Kirkwall and had nothing to do with its destruction. It would not matter to this woman. To her, Taashath was a monster. A beast. Nothing would change that. She left quickly, without further discussion, and met up with her companions. “Why don’t we just head out, there is no reason to wait until morning.”

Hours later, when they stopped and set up camp. Taashath sat by the fire, staring blindly into the crackling flames. Would the Maker even answer the prayers of a beast? False prophet that she was. She reached up, absently rubbing her fingers over the base of one of her horns. _No better than a demon, really._

Thin arms slipped around her neck from behind, a pale cheek pressed against hers. “Not a demon,” Cole said softly.

Taashath rested her hands over his and leaned into his touch and wished that she could believe him.


	22. Nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some public(ish)-sex with some mild domination going on?  
> Cullen is a bit of an ass, but he really isn't...

“Everything alright?” Blackwall asked, sitting down near the fire.

Taashath glanced up and waved off the question. “It’s fine,” she told him.

“She thinks she’s a demon.”

“Cole! That isn’t-”

“A monster.”

“Cole!” Taashath pulled away from him and scowled. She knew he rarely slipped into her thoughts, too bright, he had told her. Which made her wonder if he hadn’t witnessed the scene in the Chantry.

Blackwall’s face pinched in confusion. “What is going on?”

“She was in Kirkwall. Barely escaped the attack.”

Taashath sighed and rubbed her fingers against her forehead. “A sister at the Chantry,” she relented. “I was there, she told me I was wicked and evil because of what happened at Kirkwall.”

“You weren’t even there!” Blackwall exploded, drawing Dorian’s attention.

“What is all this yelling about?” Dorian asked, coming to stand on the other side of the fire.

“Some Chantry sister convinced our Inquisitor that she’s a demon,” Blackwall said and Taashath rolled her eyes.

“You’re being dramatic. I know I am not a demon,” she said and caught Dorian’s gaze through the flames. “But I am still a monster to a lot of people. All Qunari are. That is not going to change just because of this,” she said, holding up her hand, then she pushed up to her feet, towering over them all. “You cannot deny that in the dead of night the Qunari are an imposing people. Maker, even in full daylight people run screaming.”

“Truth be told, my dear,” Dorian said, casting a glance at Blackwall. “I’m more likely to run at the sight of that hairy lummox out of fear that it might actually be a bear.”

Blackwall made an indignant sound and Taashath pursed her lips together, trying to resist the smile that threatened to break through.

“I think someone should go have a little talk with that Chantry sister,” Blackwall said, trying to ignore Dorian’s comment.

“No,” Taashath shook her head. “Just let it go.” She couldn’t fault someone for the ingrained fear of her race. She left the fire and stopped to dip her fingers into a bucket of water that she splashed on her face. When she lifted her head she saw Cole and frowned. “Cole, please, I’m not...”

“Moonlight and fireflies. Silver and gold. One more burden she doesn’t need to bear. The nightmare changed. I would have given in.”

Then he was gone and Taashath was left staring beyond the tents and into the trees. The nightmare changed? Cullen, she thought and wished she knew how to help him.

 

Cullen paced the room, hand rubbing the back of his neck. “The nightmares seem to be getting worse,” he said, knowing there was nothing Cassandra could do, but hoped that somehow, telling her might keep them at bay.

“Have you spoken with the Inquisitor about it?”

Waving off the question, he continued to pace. Taashath knew the basics. He’d told her of his past, had admitted to the nightmares and she knew that he no longer took the lyrium. As a Saarebas she’d never used it until the Inquisition and had quickly decided she didn’t like it and wouldn’t use it. Which was both a relief and a concern. He worried about her exhausting herself in battle but was glad that she wouldn’t suffer as he did, though mages did react differently – in time it still ate away at them.

“I feel that she is better equipped to help you,” Cassandra continued, watching him pace.

“I don’t want this to touch her. She has enough to worry about.”

Cassandra sighed, arms crossed over her chest as she leaned against one of the support columns. “With all due respect, Cullen, she will worry, and if you refuse to discuss it with her she will worry more. You share a bed with her every night she is in Skyhold, it has already touched her.”

He stopped pacing and just stood there, his back to Cassandra. “That isn’t-” he pursed his lips. He knew she worried, but he didn’t want her to. “That is not what our relationship is about,” he explained, as much to her as a reminder to himself. Sex. That was what it was about, they had agreed. Maybe they both needed a reminder.

But then he thought about her laying in his bed, stretched out on her stomach, face turned to his, lips parted slightly, a lock of pale silver hair against her cheek. Her eyes had fluttered open, then she’d slid her hand up and slipped it into his that was tucked beneath the pillow.

The door opened a moment later, one of the scouts appeared and shot a look quickly between Cassandra and Cullen. “The Inquisitor has returned,” the woman said before quickly ducking back out.

“And what exactly is your relationship with the Inquisitor?” Cassandra asked pushing away from where she leaned and walked out the door. Cullen followed, caught sight of Taashath dismounting, she stood there, speaking with Blackwall as he dismounted, then stepped forward to take the reigns from her. Her laughter at something Dorian said reached his ears and made Cullen’s chest ache.

He followed her to Josephine’s office, then they all headed for the war room. The meeting was short, Taashath had a quick word with Leliana as they stepped back out and he knew that she was requesting the contract against Josephine be destroyed. “Would you accompany me to my office?” Cullen asked and Taashath nodded.

“Of course, Commander.” They made their way to his office without speaking and Taashath wasn’t sure what to expect.

“After you,” he said opening the door. She stepped inside, then turned to face him as he closed the door, a heartbeat later he had her pinned to the door and Taashath gasped softly against his mouth. It was unexpected, but she was not complaining in the least as she gave into the kiss and let her arms slide around his shoulders. His touch was urgent, rushed, kisses bordering on savage.

Cullen tugged her away from the door and backed her up until she felt the desk against the backs of her thighs. He finally broke the kiss, met her gaze and she couldn’t pinpoint the emotion behind his eyes. “Turn around,” he said, voice hoarse. Taashath watched him for a moment, realized he wasn’t going to step away, his hands gripping the edge of the desk on either side of her.

She twisted, felt the press of his cock against the back of her thigh. Taashath glanced over her shoulder, caught his dark gaze and felt her heart beat a little faster. Cullen reached past her, swiped his arm across the desk, shoving everything to the floor. Then his hand went to her back and pressed, not forcefully, but there was a firm pressure. “Lean forward.” He met her gaze and after a few unsteady breaths, she did as he said and rested her cheek against the cool, smooth wood.

“Grip the edge of the desk.”

Heat surged through her at the rough command. She obeyed, still watching him from the corner of her eye. His jaw was clenched and he didn’t seem to be enjoying himself in the least. “Cullen,” she shifted slightly, felt his fingers dig into her hips.

“Don’t,” it was a sharp demand that had her going motionless. Cullen’s eyes fell shut and he turned his face away, his hands released her hips a moment later. “Unless you want to leave.”

Taashath watched him, curious. Something was wrong, but she knew he wouldn’t tell her if she asked. “No,” she said, then wiggled her hips a little. She wanted to help him anyway that she could. Taashath saw the surprise on his features as his eyes snapped back to hers.

“Good.” Cullen stepped up behind her, slid his hands over her hips and up her back before retracing his path. A hand dipped under her and he made quick work of the laces of her leggings before he dragged them down to her thighs with her smalls. Cullen ran a hand over her ass, then lower and he went still. Taashath felt heat flush her face. “Maker, you are soaked.”

One finger pushed inside her heat and a desperate sound escaped her lips. “Shh,” Cullen crooned, leaning his body over her while he continued to stroke her slowly with that one finger. “Those doors aren’t locked, darling.”

Taashath’s eyes went wide and flew to the side door which was halfway open, then to the door that lead to the other tower sitting wide open. If someone opened that door across the battlement, they would see straight into Cullen’s office, see her sprawled out over Cullen’s desk with her bare ass sticking up while Cullen steadily teased her toward an orgasm.

A second finger joined the first and Taashath bit her lip to stifle any noise. “Good girl,” Cullen murmured. “You wouldn’t want to cry out and draw the attention of one of the patrolling scouts.” A third finger joined and her breath caught. “Maker’s breath, I missed-” he broke off, straightened, slipped his fingers from her and began to work his fingers on her clit. Taashath gripped the edge of the desk tighter. “That’s it, darling. Come for me.” Her body tensed and her vision flickered at the edges as she tried desperately to stay silent through the orgasm.

The sound that escaped her lips as Cullen thrust inside of her wasn’t nearly as loud as it sounded to her own ears. Cullen leaned over her, still, in his armor, the chest plate was hard against her back. He brushed a kiss over her bicep, while one hand slipped into her hair. “Breathe darling, keep breathing.”

Taashath’s eyes fluttered open, met his and she saw the softness there again that she knew so well. Footsteps sounded not far from the half-open door, accompanied by voices. Both Cullen and Taashath looked, waited. After several long heartbeats, Cullen straightened back up, curled his hands back over her hips. “Don’t forget to breathe, darling.”

Taashath pressed her forehead against the desk as Cullen began driving into her. The scout's voices so loud it sounded as if they were in the office with them, but the building pleasure made it impossible for her to even care if they walked in. Cullen’s breathing grew harsher with each thrust and when his hand slipped down to stroke her clit she knew he was close.

He bucked harder, his fingers nearly frantic on the sensitive flesh between her thighs. She felt the warm flood inside her as he drove as deep as he could. Taashath bit down hard on her lip to keep from crying out as she met her own end.

As reality came back, the scouts' voices still outside, none the wiser, Cullen’s body draped over hers, his forehead against the back of her shoulder. “Are you breathing?” she managed to get out, then felt him shift.

“I don’t think so,” he said and Taashath laughed softly. Cullen made a quiet sound, then pulled away. He dragged her leggings back up her thighs, then helped her up before nudging her back to sit on the desk. “I am sorry,” he said, not meeting her eyes.

“For what?”

“I was rough.”

She hadn’t thought so. “I enjoyed myself,” she told him. “Besides, you seemed like you needed it. Did it help?”

Cullen blushed, ducked his head and then rubbed the back of his neck. “Yes. No.” He pursed his lips. “I shouldn’t have.”

“Cullen,” Taashath touched his jaw, tilted his head toward her so she could kiss him. “Anytime you want to bed me over a desk, I’ll be ready and willing.”

“Andraste preserve me,” he cupped the back of her head and kissed her until someone knocked on the open door.

A scout stood there, pointedly not looking at them. “Inquisitor, Leliana wanted to speak with you.”

“Thank you,” she said, blushing furiously as they disappeared back out the open door.

Taashath left and Cullen collapsed into his chair. He rubbed his hands over his face, then groaned. He could smell her on his skin. That had not gone according to plan. He had wanted to remind himself it was just sex, and maybe he had expected that he’d drive her away in the process. Only it had completely backfired.

Hours later, when they climbed into bed, Cullen got comfortable with his head between her thighs to make up for his brusque mood earlier.

 

Taashath woke with the feeling that someone was standing over her. Her brow knitted as she lay there, trying to process what was happening and what had pulled her from her dreams. Cullen lay beside her, their bodies entwined. His breathing slow and steady. So why then, did it feel like there was someone else in the room? She opened her eyes slowly and fear was a knot in her throat. She saw the control rod first. Then Arvaarad. “No!” she shouted, but she'd already been leashed. Pain exploded through her head and all she could hear was screaming.

Tears streamed down her cheeks. She had no control over her own body. Over her own magic. Qunari were everywhere. Bodies lay broken and beaten in the courtyard. Save for her allies. They were all chained, lined up beside each other. “Your duty to the Qun was to die when your kith was killed,” the Arvaarad snarled in Qunlat.

“Fuck the Qun,” she sneered back and the pain sent her to her knees.

“Kill them,” he spat, gesturing to her friends.

Taashath lurched forward, despite the pain. She wouldn't allow it. Couldn't. Arvaarad grabbed hold of her hair, yanked and made her watch as a soldier stepped up behind Josephine and then shoved her to the ground. “Kill her,” he ground out and Taashath realized that Arvaarad was speaking to her.

She could feel her magic, but it wasn’t hers to control. She tried to resist, tried to hold it in. If she just held on long enough, maybe she would win, or at least, incinerate herself and not her friends. She refused to be used as a weapon again. Only there was no fighting the control rod. Tears began to roll down her cheeks, evaporating as soon as they fell as the flames erupted.

Pain filled screams and horrified shouts echoed in her skull as Skyhold fell silent.

Taashath couldn't breathe. She wanted to scream, but no sound came out. They were dead. Every last one of them and it was her fault. She had killed them. A figure appeared, dragging another and she stared in horror as her legs gave way and she collapsed to the ground. Cullen. “Tal-Vashoth whore,” the one dragging a beaten Cullen said, shoving him forward.

Cullen stumbled, fell to his knees, looked at the remains of the discarded bodies, then at her. She wanted to run to him, but the only power she had over her body was to clench her eyes shut. Her magic was building once again. “No,” she choked out, sobbing. “No, no, no,” The fire built and built. If she could just hold it in-

She opened her eyes, met Cullen's and she saw the look if betrayal the moment before the flames enveloped him.

Taashath woke with a start. Nausea rolled through her and she carefully extracted herself from Cullen's arms. She scrambled down the ladder and shoved open one of the doors of his office. She barely made it to the edge of the rampart before she lost the battle and the contents of her stomach.

 

Cullen reached for Taashath and frowned when he found the bed beside him empty. He realized that was what had woken him. He heard her on the ladder, then the door opened, and then another sound. His frown deepened and he climbed out of bed, tugged on his trousers and followed her down the ladder. He found her, doubled over the stone wall, sobbing quietly. He darted back into his office, grabbed the thin blanket that lay on the small couch and then went back outside to her.

“Taasha,” he kept his voice soft, as he draped the blanket around her. She was shaking, her entire body trembling and the sound of his voice had only seemed to make it worse. “Darling,” he murmured. “What's wrong?” he asked. She lurched forward, retched, and Cullen reached out, held her hair back with one hand, the other rubbed her back. “Are you ill?” he asked softly, leaning down to press a kiss to her shoulder. “I can fetch a healer,” he offered but she shook her head.

“I'm not-” her voice broke and another sob escaped.

Cullen stood there, holding her, rubbing her back, waiting to see if she got sick again. When long minutes had passed he finally tugged her away from the wall. “Come on, I've got you,” he told her, leading her back into his office and over to the couch.

“I’d never-” her voice broke and she pressed her hands to her face, shook her head. “I'd never use magic on you, Cullen. Please, you know I'd never-” she was sobbing again and Cullen wrapped his arms around her.

“Taasha, it was only a dream. You're safe.” He maneuvered her onto the too small couch, her back was pressed against the cushions and Cullen stretched out, shielding her from the empty room, and he hoped from the demons in her head.

“I wouldn't, Cullen, I swear, I wouldn't,” her voice was ragged.

“I know,” he told her, his lips against her temple. “I know that you wouldn't, darling, it's okay. You're safe. I've got you. They can't hurt you,” he repeated. It took a long time for the trembling and the tears to subside. Cullen just held her, telling her again and again, that she was safe.

He'd only just begun to doze off as the sun began to seep into the room. Cullen had stayed awake, keeping watch over the woman beside him.

 

Taashath was mortified as she slowly began to wake up and the previous night came back to her. The nightmare. She winced, felt her stomach roll at the memory. Cullen had witnessed her completely falling apart. The couch was far too small for the both of them, regardless of her being wedged up against the back. She couldn’t imagine Cullen had a very restful nights sleep.

She shifted, felt Cullen’s arms tighten around her. “Shh, I’ve got you,” he murmured and she felt tears burn her eyes.

“I am okay, Cullen,” her throat hurt and her voice rasped. “I apologize for last night.”

Cullen withdrew, sitting up and so did Taashath, holding the blanket around her body. “It’s fine, don’t apologize, it was just a bad dream.”

Taashath ducked her head. As if that made it any better? Cullen had nightmares all the time and they didn’t break him like it had her.

“How are you feeling now?” Cullen asked elbows on his knees, looking down at his hands.

Taashath glanced at him then quickly away. Her throat felt tight. She wasn’t a child, how could she let a bad dream her like that? Though she swore she could still smell the fire that she’d used against her friends. “Fine,” she said quietly.

“Maker’s breath,” Cullen pushed up to his feet suddenly, his hands rubbed over his face and through his hair. Taashath’s heart gave a hard kick in her chest as she looked up at him. _This is it,_ she thought. _He’s going to end things between us._

“We never discussed, I should have made sure, but I-” he stopped and looked at her. Taashath’s head hurt and she was confused, not understanding what Cullen was getting at. _Hadn’t discussed what?_ “Are you with child? You were sick and we never discussed methods of preventing pregnancy.”

Heat burned her cheeks. She shook her head. “No, Cullen,” she told him quietly.

“Are you sure? I-” he broke off and rubbed his hand over the back of his neck.

“I spoke with Cassandra after that first night we were together. She told me what I needed to take to be sure I wouldn’t get with child.” He turned his back to her, but she watched his shoulders sag as if a great weight had just been lifted. Taashath couldn’t blame his reaction.

Silence hung in the air for several moments, then Cullen sat back down beside her. “Do you want to talk about the dream?” he asked softly, one hand reaching out to rub the back of his knuckles against her arm.

Truthfully, she did, but Cullen didn’t talk about his. He just pretended he didn’t have them. Maybe if she told him he would open up and let her help? Because that was all she wanted, to help him. “Qunari raided Skyhold. Arvaarad made me-” the words turned to a hard lump in her throat.

Cullen’s arm slid around her shoulders, tugging her close, his lips pressed against her temple. “It was just a dream, Darling.”

Taashath leaned into him, her eyes slipping shut. “They made me kill everyone. I couldn’t control it and I even tried to-” Cullen’s grip on her tightened.

“You’re safe. They will never control you again.”


	23. Sacrifice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you follow me on tumblr, you may or may not be aware of the existential crisis I've been suffering when it comes to this story. Long story short, I want to rewrite it. So much of the story was rushed, and skimmed over(because that is how I tend to write, no beta readers, just a clusterfuck of thoughts). I've gone back and forth over just stopping and doing the rewrite or finishing it first. I think I have finally come to the decision that I will rewrite it, but only after I finish it since I plan to take my time with the rewrite and have it completed before I even start posting it so I don't end up with huge gaps in the story like it currently has.
> 
> I want to thank everyone who has been reading it and sticking with it/me. This story turned into more than I ever expected. It was just supposed to be a bit of fluff and smut and done. Life seems to have calmed down a bit and since I have most of the rest of it already written(just need to connect all the dots), hopefully, I'll be able to finish it all up in the next few weeks.

* * *

 

 

Taashath sat in the open air tavern in Val Royeaux, sipping from a large mug. “Mind some company?” Thom asked walking up to the table.

“Not at all,” she gestured to the empty chair across from her.

A server came and Thom ordered a pint. After his drink was dropped off they sat there in silence for a long time. “Are you alright?” he finally asked, elbows resting on the table.

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” she replied immediately before taking a long drink from her mug, but she avoided meeting his gaze.

Thom pursed his lips and leaned forward slightly. He wanted to reach out and touch her, to trace his fingers over the back of her hand. He had once, a long time ago. Before. “The last few months have taken their toll on you.” Taashath had seemed almost happy for a time, from his perspective. She’d talked more, smiled on a rare occasion and he’d even heard her low chuckle a few times. Then one thing after the other with the Winter Palace, Adamant Fortress and falling into the Fade. Then his own actions when he outed himself for who he really was hadn’t helped.

“It’s-” she sighed softly, staring down into her mug. “I thought… I’m a fool,” she said, then peeked up at Thom. “I’ve been sleeping with Cullen.”

It took everything in Thom not to grit his teeth. He was well aware, she had told him as much after he returned to Skyhold and there were nights that her cries of pleasure reached where he lay in the barn trying to sleep. “I am sure everyone at Skyhold is aware of that.” It would be a lie to say he wasn’t jealous, he couldn’t deny it. Thom knew he didn’t deserve her and he was beginning to think that the Commander didn’t either.

“He isn’t happy.” Taashath traced her finger along the rim of her mug, still staring into it as if it held all the answers.

“He’s a bloody idiot,” Thom scowled and took a long pull from his mug.

Taashath shook her head. “No,” she said, “I want him to be happy. I know...” she trailed off, chewed on her bottom lip. “Not a mage. Human. Maybe elven.”

Thom slammed his mug down on the table and leaned forward. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s just sex. He needs more,” she tried to explain. “Cassandra or maybe Josephine… No.”

“ _He_ needs more? What about _you_?” The woman was being daft. Completely daft.

Taashath shook her head. “No, it can’t be me. I think I make the nightmares worse.”

“Maker’s balls!” he exploded, garnering him a few glances from the other tables, abut Taashath was unfazed. “I meant don’t _you_ deserve more?”

Her nose crinkled and she blinked at him as if startled. “No, why would I?”

_She’s serious_ , he thought. The idiot did not deserve her. After everything Taashath had been through, if anyone in the Maker forsaken world deserved happiness, it was her. She deserved to be worshiped and adored. She already had so much to worry about, with the mark on her hand, the rifts, Corypheus. She shouldn’t have to worry that the man she was sleeping with wasn’t happy because of who she was. The temptation to knock some sense into the Commander when they returned to Skyhold filled his mind and wouldn’t let go.

“Flissa,” she said, continuing her earlier thoughts, ignoring him. “No, Andriana, she works in the kitchens,” Taashath said with a soft smile. “She makes me pies.”

“You’re daft,” he finally said and she blinked at him.

“Did you just- I am not.” Taashath stood up and scowled at him before storming away.

 

It twisted her insides knowing Cullen would never be able to find comfort with her. She understood why though. Considering his past, she had no idea what had ever possessed him to go to bed with her in the first place, let alone allow her to share his space every night. Their arrangement had gone on for too long though. They had agreed either could end it, but she couldn’t imagine that Cullen would. Duty bound to bedding her.

Taashath spotted Cullen sparring with one of the soldiers as she and her companions rode through the gates. Her heart ached for the loss she was bringing on herself, but she couldn’t allow Cullen to continue torturing himself the way he was. She dismounted and handed the reigns off to Thom, who she was still angry with for calling her daft, before heading for the fenced off ring. The two men were shirtless, skin glistening with sweat as they swung and blocked with wooden swords.

She realized it was Knight Captain Rylen when the man glanced in her direction. “Inquisitor,” he called with an incline of his head. She watched as Cullen turned and then was promptly knocked backward by a grinning Rylen. He helped Cullen to his feet and walked off in the opposite direction as Cullen headed for her.

“You’re bleeding,” she said quietly, noting the scratch on his arm.

“It’s fine,” he grumbled, grabbing his tunic from where it was tossed over the fence beside her and yanked it over his head. “How did everything go in Val Royeaux?”

“It was fine,” she murmured. “Do you have a moment to talk in private?”

“Of course,” Cullen said. “Give me a moment and I’ll meet you in my office?”

Taashath nodded and then turned and walked away. In his office, she tugged the doors closed and sucked in a slow, deep breath to steady herself. She had replayed the conversation over and over in her head, trying to find the right words. A blanket and pillow were tossed on the couch and she looked at the piles of papers all over his desk. Absently, she ran her fingers over the box that held the lyrium he’d stopped using.

She had only used it a few times when she’d first been brought into the Inquisition, she hadn’t liked how it made her feel, or the taste it left in her mouth. Cullen had been taking it for years and she knew how much he struggled with not taking it. Lifting the lid she blinked in confusion and felt her heart lodge in her throat. The vial of lyrium was empty.

The door opened and Cullen stepped in, lit up from behind by the bright sun. He looked rested, his cheeks were a little less sunken than they had been a few weeks ago she thought. All the words she had were lost as she stared at him from across the room and tried to remember how to breathe. He’d taken it again?

“What are you-” he broke off, brow knitting together as his eyes focused on her. He crossed the room quickly, snapped the box shut and picked it up. He carried it over to one of the bookshelves and set it down.

“I’m sorry,” she said, shoulders sagging as she rested her hip against the edge of his desk. “I wasn’t trying to pry.” Taashath could see the stiffness in his body as he stood with his back still to her and she couldn’t help but feel like it was her fault.

“What did you want to talk about?” he asked, still not turning around.

“This arrangement that you and I have,” she swallowed hard and clenched her hands into fists, her short nails biting into the palms of her hands. “The sex and sharing a bed… it needs to end.” Cullen whirled around at that but she couldn’t look at him. “You have been a dear friend to me, Cullen, and helped me in so many ways. There is no way I can repay you.”

Cullen shook his head. “I don't want you to,” he snapped.

“Of course not,” her lips twisted into a sad smile. “We agreed that either one of us could call an end to this arrangement, and we would still remain friends.”

“Yes, we did, but I'm not-” he shook his head again.

“Please, Cullen. I am no longer interested in a sexual relationship.”

“Of course,” he was stunned. “Yes, Taash-Taashath. As you wish.”

“Thank you, Cullen,” she inclined her head. “I do hope things will not be awkward. As I said, you are a dear friend.”

“Don't.” Lifting his hand to cut off her words. “My lady, it is fine. We agreed, did we not? You have nothing to worry about.” But his heart was pounding in his chest and he felt a strange twisting in his gut. She left and Cullen sunk down onto the edge of the couch and rested his head in his hands. Had it been too much for her? His sexual appetite? Had she found solace elsewhere? Rainier had been accompanying her far more as of late. Or did it have anything to do with his nightmares?

He wanted to push her away. He’d tried, hadn’t he? At every step. He should never have let things go as far as they had. Sex was one thing, sharing a bed was another. Cullen rubbed his hand over his mouth and stood up, began pacing the length of his office. He wasn’t good for anyone, he was well aware.

Too much had happened to him over the years. Duty. That was what he’d sworn himself to and it was time he made it his full focus again. His eyes caught on the lyrium box and he walked over to it, lifting the lid. Cullen kept it as a reminder.

A few nights earlier, he’d woken alone in the middle of the night from a dream where the demon had been trying to lure Taashath, not him. Cullen had begged her not to, but the demon’s words had been sweet.

Cullen woke in a cold sweat and the empty bed beside him caused a dull ache in his chest. He pressed his face into her pillow, but the scent of her hair was faint and he’d eventually given up and gone down to his office. The lyrium had sat on his desk, taunting him. _If he just took it, he could protect himself, protect **her**_. The temptation had been so strong and Cullen had felt weak so he’d poured the contents over the ramparts.

Wrapping his hand around the box he closed his eyes. He just needed to focus.

 

But focus was hard to come by when sleep eluded him. The fact that he knew that Taashath was there in Skyhold, so close, but now completely out of his reach. He tossed and turned for hours that night before eventually giving up. He got up to walk the ramparts, in hopes that it would exhaust him enough to sleep. He should have gone down to the tavern before it had closed up for the night, he thought as he walked. Then maybe he could have at least gotten a few hours of rest. With a sigh, Cullen rested his elbows against the short stone wall and stared down into the dark and empty courtyard.

Was Taashath having any difficulty sleeping? Did she opt to sleep in her bed finally? Or had she made up the pallet for herself in the loft of her quarters again? A flicker of light caught his attention and he glanced in its direction. The barn was lit up with a soft glow. Cullen’s stomach twisted and he looked away. Or had she found somewhere else to lay her head?

Cullen couldn’t begrudge her any happiness she managed to take for herself since he knew he couldn’t give it to her. But Rainier didn’t deserve her.

 

Taashath’s body ached and she was exhausted. She had been back at Skyhold for a few days and would be leaving again in the morning. They would be marching on the Arbor Wilds soon, but first, she had other things to take care of. Sleep, she hoped, would come easier on the road. Unable to sleep in her own quarters, she’d curled up in the comfortable leather chair in her makeshift office near the gardens and managed to get a little sleep, though her muscles paid the price.

She had just left the kitchen after speaking with Andriana when she spotted a crowd growing around the training circle. Brow furrowed she quickened her pace, wondering who was sparring that could cause so many people to stop and watch. At first, she couldn’t see anything there were so many people, but when she got close enough to see over the tops of their heads she froze.

Cullen and Thom were in the center of the ring, both bloody and bruised. Training weapons lay discarded in the dirt not far away and she tried to figure out how what must have started as a sparring session had deescalated into an all-out brawl.

A sharp whistle pierced her ears and she looked in the direction of it, along with everyone else, except for the two men dancing around each other. Cassandra looked like a storm cloud as she stormed through the parting crowd. It stirred her into motion and she reached the fence just a moment after Cassandra. “That is enough!” Cassandra shouted. Both men froze and the crowd went silent.


	24. Envy

“Back to your duties,” Taashath yelled at the crowd and after several long moments, they began to disperse. Cullen had his head ducked down while he rubbed the back of his neck and avoided meeting anyone's gaze, whereas Thom looked at Taashath, unashamed, one eye swollen shut, while blood dripped from a split on his cheek. 

Cassandra had her hands on her hips and Taashath could practically feel the anger radiating from her. “This is ridiculous,” she spat out. “Whatever differences the two of you may have should not be put on display for all at Skyhold to witness. Rainier, the Inquisitor allowed you to stay and this is how you repay her? By brawling with the Commander?” Then her eyes fixed on Cullen, who still hadn’t lifted his head and Taashath wondered if Thom had even landed a blow on the other man. “And you, Commander! Is this how you want the troops to behave?” 

Cullen looked up at that, his face was flushed and Taashath saw the bruise on his jaw, blood on his mouth. He clenched his jaw, winced and looked away. His eyes met Taashath’s for a fleeting moment and then Cullen turned and walked away without a word. 

Finally, Cassandra looked at Taashath and scowled at her. “Deal with this,” she bit out. Because, after all, it was her fault. Taashath nodded and Cassandra walked away. 

“A word, Rainier,” Taashath said, then walked away from the training ring and down toward the barn. Thom followed, and inside she began pacing. “What were you thinking?!” she exclaimed, her voice barely contained. “What possessed you to go at Cullen like that?” 

“He’s a bastard,” Thom muttered, dabbing at the blood seeping from the cut on his cheek with a handkerchief. “He hurt you.” 

She turned on him, hands on her hips, the picture of rage. “What in the name of the Maker are you going on about? He didn’t hurt me. Cullen has never hurt me!” 

“The Commander somehow managed to make you believe that you deserve less than him.” 

Thom’s response startled her. “No, he didn’t,” she said with a shake of her head. 

“Then why are you so damned concerned about his happiness without even a thought to your own.” 

“I don’t-” she shook her head again, her hands falling to her sides. 

“You don’t deserve to be happy?” 

“That isn’t what I was going to say!” she snapped, pointing a finger at him. “Do you _actually_ believe I’m going to live through this? Beyond defeating Corypheus?” 

“Of course I do,” he said without hesitation. 

Taashath rolled her eyes. She knew better. Thom was just being idealistic, something she couldn’t afford to be. She wanted to know that everyone she cared about was happy and healthy and that they would be okay once all this was over. “Cullen would never be happy with me,” she tried to explain. “It is impossible. I’m a mage, I’m a-” she pursed her lips. _Monster_. _Demon_. “Qunari. He was in Kirkwall when the Qunari attacked. He felt duty-bound for some reason to help me. He taught me to read and helped me in so many ways.” Thom scowled. “I asked about sex, and well, he taught me about that too, because I couldn’t with The Iron Bull. It was never supposed to be more than that, we agreed.” 

“You _will_ defeat Corypheus,” Thom said crossing to where she stood. He cupped her chin, held it between thumb and forefinger. “I know you will, and maybe, just maybe, you’ll be willing to give me a chance at making you happy.” 

“Thom,” she whispered. He brushed his lips against hers. It was tentative, soft and the rasp of his beard wasn’t at all unpleasant. It tickled a little. 

“I don’t deserve you any more than the Commander does, but I can promise you one thing, my lady, I’d worship you and do everything in my power to make you happy.” 

Taashath felt tears burn the backs of her eyes. “You’re kind,” she said and brought her hand up to cup his cheek, covering the cut and the swollen bruise that spread up to his left eye. She was not all that skilled with healing magic, but she something minor she could heal. Thom closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. “Relationships don’t exist in the Qun. There is no love, just… duty.” 

“You haven’t been a part of the Qun for a long time now, my lady.” 

While that was true, she wondered if there weren’t relationships and love for a reason. Maybe Qunari just weren’t capable of it. The Iron Bull certainly had no interest in any of it from what she’d seen. Taashath cared for the people she led and those who fought by her side, but love? The idea seemed foreign to her and she had no idea who she could even ask to explain it to her. “No, I haven’t,” she agreed. “But that doesn’t mean I want a relationship.” 

He touched her bottom lip, rubbed along the edge of it like Cullen always did, and she felt her a tightness in her chest. “If you don’t want a relationship, I won’t ask one of you. But I can still guarantee that I would worship you.”

Thom kissed her again, just as soft and tender as before. Taashath kissed him back because she liked kissing and she ached for the feel of someone wrapping their arms around her. Would Thom flinch away from her in the night? The tightness in her chest grew worse and breathing was quickly becoming an issue. She reached up, pressed her hand to the center of his chest and turned her head away, desperate to suck in a breath and to make the pain in her chest stop. 

“Should I apologize for that?” Thom asked, voice a low rasp. 

Taashath shook her head. “No, I-” she swallowed hard. “No, but I… I am not sure,” she said, looking at him again. 

Thom nodded, took hold of the hand that wasn’t pressed against his chest, and brought it up to press a kiss to her knuckles. “I won’t push. I’ll just be here, my lady. Whenever you want.”

  

Cullen’s jaw hurt. The bastard knew how to throw a punch, but at least he had managed to land the first one. It had started out as a typical sparring session. Or as close to, anyways. Rainier had approached him, suggested they have a go at it, it would be good for the both of them. He couldn’t remember who threw down their sword and shield first. They had been baiting each other. Then Rainier had mentioned Taashath and implied just how worthless he really was, Cullen’s fist had made contact. After the brawl, Cullen saw the two heading for the barn and struggled the swallow the bitterness burning in his throat. 

Hours later, Cullen saw Rainier again, looking smug with no sign that he’d been in a fight. While Cullen still sported the bruise on his jaw and a split lip. A healing tonic? Or had Taashath healed him? He thought of the one time she’d offered her magic up to him. It seemed like a lifetime ago. He’d refused. If she offered it now, would he still? He knew her and he trusted her. Cullen wasn’t sure. 

Looking up from the papers in front of him when he heard footsteps he saw Taashath. She looked small, he thought. Her shoulders were slumped forward and the way she was twisting her hands in front of her made her seem very young. “I am sorry for Thom’s actions. He was… it was a ridiculous notion of being valiant.” 

“Don’t apologize, that fight was a long time coming,” he waved it off, looked back down at the papers. 

“Oh, right,” she nodded. “You wanted him to hang for his crimes. But Thom’s freedom is on me, not him. It was my choice, so if you are angry it should be with me.” 

Cullen clenched his jaw, tried to ignore the aching. “I’ve told you repeatedly I did not disagree with your choice.” 

“Then why?” 

He sighed. “It isn’t important,” he told her. Because it wasn’t, not anymore. 

Taashath pursed her lips and stared at him for a few moments. “If you say so,” she murmured. “I’ll be leaving in the morning for the Hissing Wastes.”

“Safe travels,” he said, inclining his head.  
  
“Thank you.” Then she was gone. Cullen rubbed his hand along his jaw, feeling the swelling. She hadn’t even offered and why would she? He’d made his feelings on magic very clear, hadn’t he? He was jealous, he realized. It was a strange and unfamiliar sensation. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d been jealous, especially not when it came to magic. 

Cullen suffered through yet another sleepless night and was up well before dawn. He told himself that it had nothing to do with Taashath, because why would it? But still, he found himself watching as she and her companions mounted their horses and made their way from Skyhold. Rainier never straying far from her side, while Cole and The Iron Bull followed close behind. 

He threw himself into his work. His jaw still throbbed and he sported more than a handful of bruises from his run-in with Rainier. Cullen wasn’t sure how long he’d been working, hunched over his desk when he heard a very soft knock on one of the open doors. Looking up, he frowned. It was one of the women who worked in the kitchens. He wasn’t sure he’d ever spoken to her before, definitely didn’t know her name or why she was standing in his doorway with a tray balanced against her hip. 

“Ser,” she said, her voice lilting and quiet before she gave a slight bow. “I’ve brought up a bit of something for you to eat.” She crossed the room and her brow furrowed as she stared at his desk. There wasn’t even an inch of open space on it. 

Cullen was confused, but then suddenly obligated to be polite. “Oh, thank you,” he said, standing up and quickly shifting things out of the way to allow her to set the tray down. “But that wasn’t necessary.” 

“Nonsense,” she said and gave him another slight bow before she left. 

Sinking back down into his chair he shot a look at the tray. What had possessed the woman to bring him a tray of food? He knew he had a habit of skipping meals on accident, and it was worse when Taashath was away. Cullen had started to make sure she remembered to eat and often joined her. 

He supposed that now that wasn’t something he needed to worry about. He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed before going back to his paperwork. 

Several days passed and Andriana, the slight elven woman from the kitchens, continued to bring him trays of food for every meal. If he was out with the troops or speaking with Josephine and Leliana when she stopped by his office the tray would still be sitting on his desk when he returned. 

“You do not need to continue doing this,” he told her the night before when she’d come by to collect the tray after dinner. 

“With all due respect Ser, you forget to eat,” Andriana said. “Someone needs to keep an eye on you.” 

Cullen scowled as she sauntered through the door. Her hips swayed slightly and she shot a look over her shoulder at him that held the hint of a smirk. “I don’t need anyone to take care of me,” he grumbled and began actively avoiding spending time in his office. 

“Commander,” one of the scouts held out a folded piece of paper to Cullen and he frowned as he took it. 

“What is it?” The scout shrugged and walked away. 

Unfolding the paper he read the words ' _Come to the garden_ ' and shook his head, glancing around. He scowled down at the paper, wondering if this was some ploy of Andriana’s. He had no idea what the woman was up to, but it needed to stop. He headed for the keep’s garden, but the woman sitting alone on the gazebo wasn’t Andriana. 

The air seized in Cullen’s lungs and the edges of his vision went dark. He blinked several times, stared at her, convinced he was hallucinating. But she canted her head to the side, gave him the same look she'd given him all those years ago and then lifted her hand in a wave. 

Cullen crossed the garden, his steps cautious. Usually a fairly busy place, it was completely empty now, save for _her_. “You're not-” he shook his head, his brain trying to catch up. It was impossible. She wasn’t there. She couldn’t be. 

“I received a letter from Leliana that Alistair was lost in the fade. I-” she broke off with a sigh, pushed a lock of dark hair behind her ear. “I came to see Morrigan and Kieran and wanted to meet the famed Inquisitor. But was informed she's away.” 

“Talon,” Cullen still stood, staring at her. “I'm not- I -” 

“Sit down, Cullen.” The elven woman patted the spot beside her. “It's been more than ten years, can't we just sit down a talk for a few minutes?” 

He sat, because what else could he do? The Hero of Ferelden. He'd last seen her in the Circle Tower over a decade ago. Closing his eyes at the memory. He'd been cruel. There was no other word for it. Cullen rested his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped together in front of him and turned his head to look at her. 

Talon had always been small, a petite woman with narrow features, but now she looked thin and pale, like she'd had a long stretch of illness. “The false calling?” he asked and she nodded, fingers tugging at the edge of her tunic. 

“It's taken its toll... but I worry, I'm running short on time. I still hear it. The song,” Talon shook her head, long brown hair shifting over her shoulders. She kept it short at Kinloch Hold. He could almost remember the feel of it between his fingers. “I have been searching for a cure, I have to find it-” her voice cracked. “I- Fiona, she used to be a Warden. I had hoped that she'd have more insight.” Talon smiled sadly. 

“I am sorry about Alistair,” Cullen told her. 

“He was a dear friend, he was by my side through it all. I believe he is… was one of the only reasons I’m still alive. I had hoped to meet your Inquisitor, I've heard rather spectacular things about her.” 

Cullen felt a strong wave of protectiveness wash over him and he was glad that Taashath was still gone. The woman beside him wasn’t the same woman that he’d known all those years ago. Time and the brutality of war changed them both. “Do you blame her? For Alistair?” His voice was sharper than he’d meant it to be. But if Talon blamed Taasha for what had happened, he would personally see that the Hero of Ferelden was kept far away from her. 

Talon looked up at him, startled. “What? No, of course not. Leliana informed me of what happened. Being in the Fade...” she trailed off. “I... Alistair made his own choices. He was always willing to sacrifice himself for the sake of others.” A tear rolled down her cheek and she quickly dashed it away.

“Is it his?” Cullen noticed the way her other hand kept straying to her stomach, fingers rubbing absently against it.

Her lips quirked up in a flash of a smile. “No, no, it isn't. As I said, he was a dear friend, but we were never lovers. Zevran, I believe you've had some correspondence with him? The Antivan Crow?” Cullen's eyebrows shot up, remembering the letters, and the assassin. “Neither of us ever expected I would get with child, the pregnancy rates for Wardens is very low.” she tilted her head down and smoothed her hand over her still flat stomach. “You look good, Cullen. Leliana told me you stopped taking the lyrium.”

He felt his cheeks flush and ducked his head, rubbing the back of his neck. “I did.”

“I'm proud of you. I always- I loved you, all those years ago. First love and all that,” she let out a little huff of laughter. “After Kinloch fell, you were so angry, I worried about you.”

“Rightfully so,” he said quietly. “The things I said to you, I was cruel, Talon. I won't ask you to forgive me, but I want you to know how very sorry I am.”

“I do,” she told him, reaching over to take his hand. “Forgive you. I forgave you a long time ago. You should forgive yourself now. What you have been through, my sweet Templar, the Commander of an army.” Talon smiled at him and he squeezed her hand. “I also hear you and the Inquisitor-”

Cullen coughed. “Maker's breath, Talon,” he rasped out, his free hand rubbing the back of his neck. “It isn't- we aren’t-”

“Isn’t what?” she asked. He just ducked his head, refusing to look at her. It was far too complicated to try and explain. “You're allowed to be happy, Cullen. Stop punishing yourself. I know that is what you’re doing. You did it after my harrowing. You’ve done it since Kirkwall. It’s time to move past all that and be happy.”

He cursed quietly under his breath. “Just how much has Leliana been telling you?” Cullen sighed and sat there thinking over her words. He hadn't wanted anything for a long time. His only focus had been on his duties. Taasha was the first thing he'd taken for himself, since Talon, since before Kinloch Hold was overrun by demons. “Did you ever wonder what would have happened? If you hadn't been sent to the Wardens? If the tower didn’t fall?”

“No,” she told him. “Becoming a Warden was the closest I would ever get to freedom. Otherwise, I would have died in that tower, whether it fell or not. There was no future for us there either. I love Zevran, he is... the other half of my soul,” she looked at him, curiously. “Did you?”

“No,” he echoed with a shake of his head. “I worried for you, in the weeks after you left. Hoped that you would be safe, and then...” he trailed off. And then the tower had fallen and he'd wished her and every other mage dead.

“Do you love her?”

Cullen's cheeks flushed and he looked away. “No,” he said quietly. “No, of course not, I-” He cared about her, as a friend, yes, but no more than that. To be honest he wasn’t even sure he knew what love actually was or if he was even capable of it.

Talon cupped his face, looked at him, with a softer smile than she'd had years ago. There were smile lines around her eyes, small scars along her jaw. “You are allowed happiness, Cullen. _Please_ , I beg of you. Let yourself be happy.” Then she brushed her lips softly against his.

It was a goodbye. One that they never had before. He reached up, touched the tip of her ear where a small gold hoop hung and he smiled. “Take care of that child,” he told her. “And if there is anything I can do, I will do it. I didn't know you were searching for a cure for the blight, I'll do everything I can to help you find it.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, hugged him and then he watched her get to her feet and tug the hood up over her head. There was a whistle and he saw a man clad in black appeared in a doorway and Cullen frowned, concerned until he saw the way Talon's face lit up. “Perhaps once this is all over, I can meet the Inquisitor and you can properly meet my husband.” Then she dashed away.

Cullen didn't miss the way the other man tenderly kissed her and touched a hand to her belly. He sat there for several minutes. His mind drifted to Taashath. She didn’t want him any longer and could he really blame her? He had done nothing to endear himself to her. Rainier had called him a coward and maybe the man was right.


	25. Chapter 25

Cullen worked well into the night writing letters and contacting everyone he could think of that might have any information regarding the Grey Wardens and possible leads in regards to curing the Blight. When exhaustion caught up to him, he climbed the ladder, shed his armor and crawled into bed. But as he pressed his face into the pillow, he caught a whiff of the slightly sweet scented soap that Taashath favored.

Cursing softly he rolled onto his back and stared up at the sky. It was overcast, not a star visible and his chest ached. Cullen wasn’t sure he’d ever felt quite so alone as he did at that moment. What could he do to win her back over? Was there even anything he could do? Would she even want him back? Or had she ended things so that she could be with Rainier? Rubbing his hand over his face he knew he had to try, or he’d regret it for the rest of his life.

He missed her. The bed was far too big without her in it. He missed her little smiles and the quiet laughs. He thought of laying on the couch with her when it was late, as the candles burned low and she read until it grew too dark to see. She had shared everything with him, her worries and fears. Stories of her past.

All things Cullen had never shared in kind. He told himself he hadn’t wanted to burden her with the horrors of his past. There was no reason she needed to know the details of the torment he suffered in Kinloch Hold. Taasha didn’t need to know what he’d witnessed in Kirkwall when the Qunari had attacked.

He thought of Talon, how she had caught his eye the moment he saw her. She had flirted, boldly, and he’d blushed and stuttered his way through their first meeting. It grew easier as the days turned to weeks turned to months. They talked. Cullen knew there were lines they weren’t supposed to cross, but he’d been enraptured by her. Infatuated with the pretty, dark-haired elf.

Their first kiss was a fumbled thing, in a dark corner where no one would see them. Their first time had been just as awkward. But they learned together, they grew closer, and Cullen ignored the reality until he couldn’t any longer.

For a time, in Kirkwall, sex was an escape while torturing himself at the same time. There were a handful of elven women at the Blooming Rose, and two of them had short, dark hair. He tormented himself with them. If he could just pretend, just for a moment, that nothing had changed, that Talon wasn’t gone and he hadn’t been driven to the brink of madness by demons, then everything would be fine. It hadn’t worked and as things grew worse in Kirkwall he stopped his private visits to the Rose.

When Cullen joined Cassandra he made a vow to the Maker and to himself, that he would do his duty and give everything to the Inquisition. His attraction to Taashath had blindsided him. Not just a mage, but a Qunari as well. His literal worst nightmare for months. But she was nothing he would have ever expected. Reserved and quiet, but so determined and strong.

He let her slip right through his fingers. _Not without a fight_ , he thought and hoped that it wasn’t too late.

 

* * *

 

 

Taashath lay on her stomach, bare from the waist up, watching Thom open the jar of healing salve. The slash of claws across the back of her shoulders could have been far worse. “It will be cold,” he warned, meeting her gaze before scooping some of it onto his fingers and smoothing it over her injury. Taashath hissed and clenched her eyes shut.

“Ow,” she whined quietly.

Thom’s touch was even more gentle as he carefully made sure the entire wound was covered. “Serves you right,” he muttered quietly. “There is no reason for you to be in the middle of the battle.”

“Cole was hurt,” she said, opening her eyes to look at the man leaning over her, brows furrowed in concentration.

“The boy can take care of himself.” It was a regular argument between them and had been since they had stumbled onto a dragon in the Hinterlands.

“And I can’t?” Taashath asked.

Thom’s scowl deepened. “That is not what I meant and you damn well know it.” He drew back, wiped his fingers clean on a rag before he sighed.

It was a terror demon and it didn’t matter where she was, it was likely that it would have still attacked her. “You know it would have gone after me regardless and being where I was, you were able to come to my rescue quicker than if I’d been standing on the edge of the battle.” He grumbled under his breath and went about cleaning up the bloody rags and her shredded shirt. “Tell me the story again,” she said quietly.

“My lady,” Thom said, meeting her gaze and holding it for several long moments. “Alright,” he sighed and stretched out on his side next to her. His fingers rested gently on her bare back and he leaned in to brush a kiss against the curve of her shoulder before he began telling her story, once again. It was a traditional fairy tale, one he said his little sister Liddy had loved.

Taashath let her eyes slip shut. The last several nights had gone very much the same way. It had started with them sitting beside the fire, talking late into the night, but eventually, Taashath had invited Thom into her tent. It was hard to admit that she’d grown used to sleeping beside Cullen and the empty space beside her at night made her restless. She and Thom had shared a handful of kisses and he while didn’t deny wanting her, he didn’t press her for more than she was willing to give. But thinking about it made her chest tight and she found herself comparing him to Cullen at every turn. It wasn’t fair of her.

His fingers were gentle in their touch, petting up and down her back as he spoke. Taashath’s mind drifted to Cullen, and she wondered if Andriana had taken her suggestion to pursue Cullen. Thom pressed his lips to her shoulder again, the scruff of his beard tickled pleasantly as he spoke. Finally, the low timbre of his voice and the soft touch of his fingers lulled her to sleep.

 

_A hand on her breast and lips against the back of her neck. Cullen woke her with soft kisses, gentle touches. Fingers, lips, and tongue coaxed a quiet orgasm from her before he slipped inside. Movements were slow and easy as the sun broke over the horizon. “Darling,” he murmured against her ear, again and again. “Darling, my darling.”_

Taashath moaned softly, calloused fingers cupped her breast, just rested there, and she felt her nipples pebble as need built low in her belly. _More_ , she needed more. But his hand didn’t move, didn’t caress, didn’t tease. The lips against the back of her neck were lax, they didn’t part to scrape teeth over sensitive skin. She _needed_.

Reaching up she covered the hand on her breast, guided it down over her belly and parted her thighs enough to allow the thick fingers to slide through her curls and into the wet heat. A quiet sound came from the man stretched behind her, a groan. Lips parting he pressed a sucking kiss on the back of her neck and the fingers between her thighs began to tease. Light strokes, spreading her slick up to her clit, rubbing and caressing.

She moaned again, a quiet sound, her hips rocking as a finger slipped inside. _Darling, darling._ “Cullen,” a pleading moan. She needed more. The man behind her went stock still. Taashath’s breath caught in her throat as her eyes flew open and burned with tears.

Thom moved slowly, extracting his hand from her smalls, leaving a wet trail over her belly as he pulled away. Shame filled her and Taashath couldn’t bear to look at him. “I’m sorry,” her voice cracked. She felt dirty and the lust she’d been feeling just moments earlier had turned sour.

“Don’t apologize,” Thom said, his voice rough. She heard the scratch of his palm over his beard, he cursed softly and then he was gone. Tears began to flow fast and hot down her cheeks. Even with as little as she knew about relationships, she knew that saying the name of someone else was wrong.

When she finally calmed down and forced herself to prepare for the day and exited her tent, she still couldn’t meet Thom’s eyes. “We’ll ride ahead,” Taashath said to two of the scouts. “I would like to return to Skyhold sooner than if we traveled with the group.”

“Of course, my lady,” they intoned.

 

* * *

 

 

Taashath was exhausted, she’d barely slept at all the last few nights of their return to Skyhold. Guilt was a knot in her chest. She felt as if she’d betrayed not just Thom, but Cullen as well. After the War Room meeting, she retreated to the bathhouse where she did her best to scrub herself clean. There was a woman there, bathing her children in one of the smaller tubs, the sound of the children’s laughter made Taashath smile, but did little to lighten her mood.

There were things she needed to do, but all she wanted was to retreat to her quarters, climb up into the loft and sleep for a few days. “My lady,” a scout greeted her as she came out of the bathhouse. “If you have a moment?”

“What is it?” she asked, heard the weariness in her own voice. He hesitated and she forced a small smile. “Is it a message or…?” she said.

“This way,” he led her through the gates of Skyhold and she frowned as they walked along a narrow path through thick trees. “Through there, Inquisitor,” he said and quickly ducked away, hurrying back down the path.

Fear caused a prickle of gooseflesh over her arms as she stared up the path. There was light ahead, but she was confused. Glancing back after the retreating scout, she looked ahead again. Was this some sort of ambush? Curling her hand into a fist, she let the spell build in her hand, fire licked over her fingers as she continued the short distance.

In the clearing she found the source of the light was several lanterns, giving off a warm glow. In the center was a blanket, spread out on the grass, a basket sat on one edge. Her brow furrowed and she took a step forward, movement caught her eye. Cullen stood there, wearing simple clothes, rubbing the back of his neck.

Taashath doused the ball of flame in her hand immediately and hid her hands behind her back. “Cullen,” she glanced around, confused. “Commander, what-what is all of this?”

“I owe you an apology,” he said, making his way across the clearing to stand in front of her. She shook her head, brow furrowing in confusion. “Yes, I do. Just- Maker’s breath,” he let out a breath and tugged at the collar of his shirt.

“I...I don’t understand.”

“I took our time together for granted,” he said. Cullen reached out and took her hands in his. “You deserved so much better than I gave you. I want to make it up to you.”

She was shaking her head again, but couldn’t quite bring herself to pull her hands away. “What are you talking about? You don’t owe me anything.”

“Come here,” he said softly, tugging her toward the blanket. “I do, I owe you so much.” Cullen crouched down onto his knees as she sat. “You shared yourself with me, in ways that I never did. It was unfair, I was selfish. I wanted every bit of you, but I was unwilling to give you anything in return.”

“Cullen,” Taashath said with a shake of her head. “This isn’t… this isn’t necessary.”

“Yes, it is,” he insisted. “I miss you. I miss laying with you in my bed. I miss watching you read, so engrossed by the story that the rest of the world disappears. I miss your little smiles. I never wanted to burden you with my problems, or so I kept telling myself.”

Tears burned her eyes. Taashath couldn’t begin to fathom what had prompted Cullen to do this. “Cullen,” her voice cracked.

“Taasha, my darling,” Cullen spoke softly as he cupped her cheek. “I don’t deserve you, but won’t you let me try?”

She swallowed hard, aching to lean into him, to wrap her arms around him. But she wanted him to be happy and she knew that she couldn’t make him happy. “I slept with Thom.”


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This new chapter took longer than I had expected. One would think finishing the story would be easy, since I have it all plotted and HUGE chunks of it are already written, but it's been a bit hectic the last few weeks. Hopefully, it won't take me so long to get the next chapter posted.

Cullen’s heart lodged in his throat and he felt the world come to a complete standstill as he stared into Taashath’s golden eyes. He blinked several times, trying to process the words. His hand still cupped the side of her face. _Take your hands off her, you have no right to touch her. She deserves better and you know it. Too late, you idiot. You deserve the misery of watching her be happy with a man who adores her._

_But I do adore her._

“You-” he broke off. “Does he make you happy?” Cullen asked, his voice a little hoarse. If Rainier could make Taashath happy then Cullen wouldn’t object, and as much as it would pain him, he’d stand aside.

“Cullen,” she said his name quietly, looking away.

“Tell me, Taasha, please.”

“He cares about me.” She ducked her head down, then shifted as if to get up.

Reaching out, Cullen caught her wrist, then cupped her chin and lowered his head to look her in the eye again. “I care about you,” he said, voice low and emphatic. “I asked if he made you happy.”

She shook her head, and Cullen could see the tears shining in her eyes. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes,” he insisted. “It does.” Taashath reached up and wrapped her fingers around his hand. Long, slender fingers that Cullen wanted to kiss, to hold in his and make sure that she knew what she meant to him.

“Cullen, please,” she said gently pushing his hand away from her face.

He curled his fingers around hers, held her hand between his. Leaning down, he couldn’t resist and pressed his lips to the back of her hand. “The Hero of Ferelden was here.”

“What?” her voice was a startled sound and Taashath stared at him with wide eyes, seeming to forget he was holding her hand. “She… she was here? Why?” her voice cracked.

“Leliana and Morrigan both traveled with her during the Blight,” he reminded her and she closed her eyes.

“Yes, right, of course, I knew that.” Taashath shook her head and pressed her free hand to her face. “I imagine she hates me.”

Cullen’s brow furrowed and he tugged her hand from her face. “Why would you think that?” he asked, though he imagined it was the for the same reason he’d wanted to keep the two far apart. She looked up at him and he watched a tear escape from each eye and roll down her cheeks. “She doesn’t,” he told her, voice low and soft. “She doesn’t blame you for Alistair, darling,” he said, reaching up to wipe away the dampness.

“But she must!”

“I knew her before the blight,” he told her and watched the confusion cross her face and he silently berated himself for all the things he never told her. “She was a mage, in Kinloch Hold.” Cullen touched a lock of Taashath’s hair, still damp from her bath, and wrapped it around his finger as he spoke. Maker, he had missed the scent of her soap. He missed running his fingers through her hair. “Talon Surana. She was a force of nature,” he said, absently rubbing his thumb over the knuckles of her other hand.

“How did-” Taashath broke off, pursing her lips together. “Mages aren’t allowed to leave the Circle I thought.”

Cullen nodded. “You’re right, under normal circumstances. It is rare that a mage is allowed to leave,” he sighed softly. “It is a prison. It is meant to be for their safety, for the safety of others, but… it is a prison.” He released her hair and reached for the small basket at the edge of the blanket. “Here,” he reached inside and pulled out a small parchment wrapped package.

“What is this?” Taashath held took it in her free hand and Cullen folded back the edges to reveal the pale golden brown confection. He picked up a small piece and held it up to her lips. Several long heartbeats passed before she parted her lips and bit into it. “Oh,” her eyes went wide and she looked between him and the candy in her hand. “What-” she licked her lips, chewed and didn’t object when he offered it to her again. “Maker’s breath, what is that?” she asked, inspecting the parchment wrapped candy in her hand.

He couldn’t help but grin at her reaction. Better than he had hoped for. “A gift from my sister, Mia. I mentioned your fondness for sweets. It’s something that has been passed down through the family for generations. It was a treat my mother used to make for the holidays.” It was mostly true, he wouldn’t admit that he’d written to Mia with the express intention of getting the delicate toffee candy. He had told her Taasha’s sweet tooth and set about begging and pleading for her to make the candy he remembered from his childhood.

Cullen wanted to spoil Taashath. He wanted her to know that despite all signs to the contrary, he was very aware of all the things she liked. A stack of books sat in her office, all suggestions from Cassandra, beside another box of tiny cakes ordered from Val Royeaux. But now, if she had made the decision to be with Rainier, Cullen should stand aside. But she hadn’t said the man made her happy. “Tell me about Warden Commander Surana,” she said, interrupting his thoughts.

“She grew up in one of the city Alienages. Her family kept her hidden for a few years after her magic manifested. They knew she would be taken away. She...” he trailed off, unable to help smiling a little as he thought of first meeting her.

“You cared about her?” Taashath asked, her voice soft.

“I did, very much so. We were lovers, for a time.” Cullen didn’t miss the look of startled surprise on her face.

“But she is a mage.”

“Yes,” he said, _and so are you_. “We were young. I was infatuated. I knew it was wrong, yet it didn’t stop us. Are you familiar with the Harrowings?”

“I have heard of them,” Taashath said, brow knitting together. “But I know very little.”

“They are a brutal undertaking that every mage must endure, or become Tranquil. Some fail and depending on the circumstances of the failure, they may be made Tranquil. Or they are killed.”

Taashath looked down at her hand that still held the parchment wrapped candy and set it aside, her stomach turning sour at the thought. “I’ve wondered which is worse. How mages are treated in the Circles compared to how the Qun treats them. I may have spent my life in chains, leashed and controlled, but at least I’m still me.”

Cullen cupped her jaw, stroked his thumb over the edge of her lower lip, along the scars that had begun to fade slightly. “For that, I am grateful.”

“Cullen,” she said his name quietly, turning her face away. When he looked at her like that, it made her chest ache. She thought she liked it more than she should.

“Talon’s Harrowing was not my first, but it was the first one that I had an active role. It was a reminder and a punishment. Should she fail, it would fall to me to kill her.”

Taashath gasped. “Maker, that is-” she broke off shaking her head. “That is horrible. How could they-”

Reaching up, Cullen traced the curve of her horn. “I made a vow to the Templars. As a child, I idolized them. As a new recruit, I wanted to be the best. It took far too long for me to realize the corruption that festered within its ranks. I still believe in the Templars, that they can be what they are meant to be. To protect.”

It was a struggle not to lean into his touch. Taashath missed it so much. She knew she should release his hand, but the way his thumb rubbed across her knuckles was a balm to her soul. She hadn’t realized just how much she had missed the feel of someone touching her, no matter how innocent or casual. “What happened at her Harrowing?”

“She was amazing. The quickest I’d ever attended. It was the talk of the Circle. I remember being terrified when she first opened her eyes after, convinced that she’d somehow failed and I’d be forced to draw my sword. I hadn’t been sure I could go through with it. There was an incident a few days later, with another mage, one that was suspected of blood magic. She helped him. The Knight-Commander wanted her made Tranquil as punishment, but a Grey Warden intervened and she was gone before daybreak.”

“And she went on to save the world,” Taashath said, a voice a little awed.

Cullen nodded, smiled a bit sadly. “She did.”

“Was that the first time you saw her since the Blight?”

“No,” he said with a sigh. “She is the one who saved Kinloch Hold from total ruination. Talon and her companions returned some months later, seeking help against the blight. I was not… kind. To say the least. I cursed her and every mage. The things I said to her...” he withdrew his hands. “She said she forgave me. I don’t know how she could. I was cruel and filled with hatred. I can never make up for the things I said or did.”

Taashath hated to see him hurting, but she didn’t know how to help him. “Have you met Andriana? She works in the kitchen.”

Cullen’s brows drew down into a scowl. “I’ve met her. She wouldn’t leave me alone. She kept showing up with food and telling me to eat.”

Taashath bit her lip and looked away. “She’s nice, you should get to know her.”

“I have no interest in getting to know her,” Cullen’s voice was a quiet grumble.

“I want you to be happy,” Taashath said softly.

Cullen reached out again, cupped her face, making her look at him. “I am, I mean, I was. Happy, with you.”

“Don’t, Cullen.” Tears burned her eyes. “We both know this wasn’t going anywhere. We agreed. Just sex.”

“I was an idiot.”

Taashath laughed quietly but she was afraid she’d burst into tears if he kept this up. “It’s fine, Cullen. You don’t have to...”

“Yes, I do. I have been an idiot. I pushed you away. Ever since I was a child I was dedicated to the Templar order. Joining the Inquisition was the first time I felt like I could breathe in a long time. The idea of anything deeper than friendship with anyone felt unbearable. You have had to deal with so much, so many changes, I never wanted to add onto your burdens. My withdrawals, the nightmares… I wanted to shield you from them.”

“You didn’t need to. We were friends first.” Maybe if he had let her help him, things might be different now. But there was still the matter of his nightmares. She couldn’t handle having someone she cared about flinch away from her in terror.

“I want more than that,” Cullen said.

“No,” Taashath shook her head.

Cullen felt resigned. If she didn’t want to be with him, how could he argue? “If Rainier hurts you, I’ll hang him myself.” He withdrew his hands and began to wrap the candy in the parchment again and tuck it away into the basket. Handing the basket to her he got to his feet. “I’ll clean all this up,” he said, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. “There is more in your office… and your quarters. If you don’t want it… do with it as you will.”


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh. So short. I swear these parts seem SO much longer when I write them.

Taashath stared at the books and the sweets that Cullen had left for her. She traced a finger over one of the book covers. It was obviously a romance novel and she felt her cheeks flush. _What possessed him to do all this?_ To go to the trouble of finding her books to read, to the little picnic, to the candy.

_He said he was happy with you. That he wanted **more**._

She shook her head. “No,” she muttered. “He was just lonely. He had gotten used to sharing a bed with someone, just like I did.”

_Just let it go back to the way it was before._

“And when he flinches away from my touch again?” Taashath touched her horn. _Would it change anything if I didn’t have horns?_ There had been a man in Val Royeaux who offered a lot of coin for the broken piece of her horn she’d lost all those months ago. If she gave him that and cut off the other, how much would he pay?

How many people could she help?

If Cullen saw her in the dark after a nightmare, would he still think she was a demon? She picked up the book on the top of the pile and opened it, a piece of paper fluttered to the floor. Frowning, Taashath leaned down to pick it up. Cullen’s familiar handwriting was scrawled on the paper.

_Kadan_

Tears burned her eyes. “He doesn’t know what that means,” she murmured, blinking rapidly to clear her vision.

_Kadan. My Darling. My Heart. I hope you_ _can_ _forgive_ _a foolish man_ _._

_-C_

Clutching the note to her chest she sunk down on the edge of her bed and began to weep.

 

It was a few days later when the rest of her traveling companions finally arrived at Skyhold. Taashath had kept to herself, doing her best to avoid them all. She couldn’t bear to look at Thom, not after what had happened in her tent. Waiting until after Cullen had made his morning benediction, Taashath had slipped into the small room where the statue of Andraste stood. She sat in the far corner of the room and stared up at the statue. The words of the Chantry Sister still echoed in her ears of how she didn’t belong.

Oh how she wished that she did. She wanted to belong. Absently, she rubbed her fingers against the base of her broken horn. Would people still see her as a monster if she had no horns? The idea wouldn’t leave her alone. Not having horns would solve at least half of her problems, she thought wistfully, knowing it wasn’t true. But the idea of having an easy fix in her life was appealing. Couldn’t just one thing be easy? One little thing.

Taashath looked up quickly when she heard the door open. Thom stood there, peering into the room. It took a moment for his eyes to find her and when he did he scowled. Words locked up in her throat as she turned her face away. She wanted to apologize. So desperately. She felt horrible. She’d used him, hadn’t she?

“Put the poor man out of his misery.”

She looked up, startled. “What?”

“The Commander.”

“Thom,” Taashath whispered. “Please, don’t. I’m sorry. I- I was-” she broke off with a shake of her head and stood up, wrapping her arms around herself. She stared down at the floor as she began to walk in circles in the small room.

“Don’t apologize. I...” he sighed. “It was my own fault. It is obvious that you still care about him, as he does about you.”

She waved off the words. “No, he doesn’t. Not really.”

Thom crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall, giving her a look of disbelief. “I ran into the man just outside the bathhouse. Commander Cullen informed me, in no uncertain terms, that if I ever made you feel anything less than cherished, that if I ever made you shed a tear that wasn’t in joy, he would happily remove my head from my body.”

Taashath blinked several times, her eyes wide. “He did not,” she murmured unable to imagine Cullen doing such a thing. Thom scoffed. “He doesn’t mean it,” she finally said. “He just needs to find someone else to share his bed and he’ll forget about me. A nice girl that isn’t a mage.”

“You keep using that as an excuse,” Thom said with a sigh. “That he wouldn’t want you, because you’re a mage. Have you noticed how much time he spends with Dorian? They are friends, good friends, it seems.”

She shook her head again. “That doesn’t mean anything.” He’d had a relationship with a mage before, too.

“Why are you so adamant that he can’t want you?”

“Why would he?” she flung her hand out, let her magic flare up in her hand. “No different than a demon.” Taashath spat out and felt tears burn her eyes. She saw Thom’s gaze soften and she couldn’t stand the look of sympathy in his eyes. “Don’t look at me like that. I know what I am.” She quickly headed for the door, but he caught her arm in a gentle grasp.

“We’ve gone up against our fair share of demons, my lady. You are not anything like them.”

She tugged her arm free and left without responding and left Thom standing there alone. He scratched his beard as he looked up at the statue of Andraste and silently cursed the woman who had put the notion in Taashath’s head that she was no better than a demon, and cursed Cullen for not seeing what he had sooner.

With a heavy sigh, he left the room in search of help to try and get Taashath and the Commander back together. He knew he didn’t have a shot with the woman, it was obvious. Thom couldn’t stand the idea of her continuing to hurt for no reason.

 

Cullen wouldn’t admit that he was watching her from the corner of his eye as she spared with Iron Bull. He was only half focused on the soldier in front of him. The two had been going at it for nearly an hour. It had started off lighthearted enough, a few friendly jabs. She had swatted him on the back with the long stick she was using and he’d jabbed her in the stomach.

But somewhere along the line, the sparring had grown earnest. Cullen was tempted to step in. They spat Qunlat back and forth, nothing Cullen understood. He could see the tension in her shoulders and blood trickled from a cut on her brow. Bull didn’t fair much better and spit out the blood from the split lip she’d given him.

He thought back to the conversation he and Dorian had the night before while playing chess late into the evening. The man, surprisingly, had become a friend. Dorian asked how the attempted wooing had gone, and Cullen admitted that Taashath had made it clear she wasn’t interested. _“She doesn’t want me, I can’t blame her for that. She wants Rainier.”_

“ _I don’t think she knows what she wants. But I am fairly certain it isn’t Thom Rainier. I recall her spending every night in Skyhold with you, in your quarters, but I haven’t so much as seen the two in the same room since they returned.”_

He looked away, wondering where Cassandra was. She had intervened when he and Rainier had degraded into a brawl, why wasn’t she stopping this? “Shit!” Bull shouted and Cullen looked back just in time to see Taashath hit the ground, hard. “Boss? Boss!”


	28. Chapter 28

She wasn’t moving. Cullen couldn’t hear if she’d replied to Bull. He dropped the sparring sword and launched himself over the fenced off area. He reached her a moment after Dorian did. Dorian held her hand, it glowed and Cullen wanted to reach out, take her other hand, but didn’t want to interfere. “She had the wind knocked out of her,” he said to Cullen

At that, Cullen wrapped one hand around hers while the other lifted to push back a lock of hair that stuck to her forehead, her eyes were clenched shut and it was obvious she was in pain. “Darling,” he said softly, the pet name slipping out without a thought. “Taasha.” The painful sounding gasping breaths made his heart clench tight in his chest.

Her eyes fluttered open and Cullen squeezed her hand. “Let’s get her out of the sun, someplace quiet,” Dorian suggested. “She’ll be fine, it is just going to hurt for a little while.”

When Bull moved in to lift Taashath off the ground, Cullen shot him a dark look. “Don’t.” It was a sharp command that had the big man freezing in his place. Taashath squeezed Cullen’s hand and tugged.

“Help. Up,” she gasped out and Cullen slipped his arm behind her shoulders and helped her sit before guiding her to her feet. She leaned into him as Dorian led them away from the field. The room for storing extra supplies was cool, dark and quiet. Cullen helped Taashath to sit down on the stone floor before he moved to sit behind her.

“Not behind,” she managed to get out, tugging at his hand. “Please.”

Cullen didn’t argue, he moved to sit in front of her. He drew her close, her legs crossing over his until there were mere inches separating them. Cullen took one of her hands in his, while he slid his other hand up to cup her cheek. “Breathe with me, darling.”

It hurt, but she did. The pain made her eyes water and it felt as if she was suffocating, but Cullen’s reassurance quieted the panic. A tiny, selfish part of her wished that her breath wouldn’t return anytime soon, as she enjoyed the attention Cullen was bestowing upon her. When her breathing finally evened out, became less of a struggle, Cullen withdrew his hands, much to Taashath’s disappointment. “Better now?” he asked.

_No_ , she wanted to say. She needed him to hold her for a few hours longer. “Yes, I… thank you.”

Cullen pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it to the cut above her eye. “What were you and Bull arguing about? If you don’t mind me asking.

Taashath closed her eyes, wincing both at the pain of him tending her cut and the question. Bull hadn’t pulled any punches in their sparring, or with his words.

“ _You had a good thing and you just let that go? I thought you fought for what was important.”_

“ _What do you even know, Hissrad?” she snarled back at him. She was fighting for what she thought was important. The happiness of the people she cared for._

“ _I know I found someone that makes me happy. I know that I won’t let anyone or anything stand in the way of that.”_

“ _I’m not you!”_

“ _Obviously,” he’d quipped. “A romantic picnic away from prying eyes. I would have nailed him, not told him I slept with someone else.”_

_She was so startled her arms fell to her sides just as he struck the next blow that sent her flying backward._

“I don’t understand,” she told him quietly instead of answering his question.

“What don’t you understand?”

Opening her eyes, she looked down at her hands. “Why you wanted me.” She looked up, caught Cullen’s deep frown. “I’m a mage, a-” she reached up, touched the horn that wasn’t broken. _Monster, a beast,_ she didn’t say it but felt it to her core. “You haven’t had the best experience with my kind. Mage or Qunari.”

“No,” he agreed, tucking away the handkerchief. “But I have had some of the best with you. Taasha, darling. I wanted you for a very long time before I finally gave into temptation. I have watched you flourish and you have amazed me every step of the way as you took on the responsibilities of the Inquisition. Maker’s breath, I have watched you command a room by merely standing in it. I remember watching you learn how to wield your staff, late into the night. Your determination is admirable. Fireflies and moonlight, that is what I saw when I looked at you.”

Taashath remembered Cole saying that to her months ago. _Fireflies and moonlight_. She had thought he was talking about Blackwall.

“When Talon was here,” he continued. “She made me realize what an absolute fool I have been. For the last decade, no, longer than that even. I have dedicated myself to my duties, even my time with Talon was a passing indulgence. But you… you are so much more.”

“But-” she pursed her lips.

“No,” he said with a shake of his head. “No buts. I want you and I want to be with you. Do you still want me?”

“Yes, but-”

Cullen rubbed his thumb along her bottom lip, cutting off her words. “No buts, Taasha, my darling.”

“Qunari mage.” Tears welled in her eyes and Cullen frowned.

“I know what you are, who you are. I also know that you have never hurt anyone who didn’t attack first. I know you chose the people you trusted over blind devotion. I know any man would be lucky you have you.”

“I didn’t sleep with Thom,” she said quietly. “I mean, we slept. I missed having you hold me and we did kiss-” her cheeks flamed hot as she remembered the last morning they were together.

“It doesn’t matter, darling, if you slept to him, had sex or not. What matters is right now. Do you want me or do I need to let you go?” His hand still held her jaw, no glove his skin was warm against her own and she longed to feel his hands everywhere.

Her jaw trembled. “You,” it was barely a whisper because she was terrified. “I want you, Cullen, but I’m afraid. When the nightmares return, if I reach for you, will you flinch away?”

Cullen closed his eyes for a moment, then opened his eyes, met her gaze and slid his hand to cup the back of her head. “I cannot promise the nightmares won’t return. I fear they will always be there. But I won’t shut you out, I won’t push you away like I did before. I promise you that, my darling.”

She shouldn’t, she thought. The choice would come back to bite her eventually, she was sure of it. But Taashath wouldn’t bring herself to fight him or herself any longer. She wanted him, wanted to be with him, and for now, he still wanted her. Taashath reached up, let her fingertips rub along his jaw before she leaned in and kissed him. He groaned into her mouth and his fingers tightened in her hair and she was lost.

All that existed was his mouth and his hands. His tongue dipped into her mouth, stroked against hers. Taashath bit Cullen’s lip, felt his grip on her tighten. “Maker,” he rasped, tearing his mouth away, he latched onto her throat, sucked and she shuddered, her arms wrapping around his shoulders. More, more she needed more of him. “We can’t-” he groaned out. “We can’t do this here. Not like this. You’re hurt. Maker, I have missed you, but not like this.”

He kissed her again, hard. Taashath tasted blood and didn’t know if it was his or her own. He wrenched his mouth away, held her face between his hands. “Stay with me tonight? Let me hold you again?” She nodded her head.

“Yes.” He kissed her again, softer this time before he finally pulled back and got to his feet before holding his hands out to her. “You should rest,” he told her, letting a hand slide along her side.

“I’m alright,” she murmured, ducking her head to brush a kiss over his lips.

“Humor me, darling? Dorian said you’d be sore, take it easy for the rest of the day?”

“Alright,” Taashath conceded and she thought she might have agreed to nearly anything at that moment when she saw the corner of his mouth lift up into a bit of a smile.

“Thank you,” he tugged her close, kissed her again then sighed as he pulled back. “I should get back to the troops. Dinner?” he asked and she nodded. “Good.” He smiled again. “Good. I’ll see you later, darling.”


	29. Chapter 29

Dinner was a quiet event. Cullen and Taashath found a table at the tavern and surprisingly were left alone. For some reason, Taashath felt shy as they sat, quietly eating, their fingers twined together atop the table. He wanted her. Cullen adamantly insisted that he wanted her, yet that whisper in the back of her mind wouldn’t be silent. _He wants me_ , she reminded it.

_For now._

_Then I’ll memorize every moment, for now._ He squeezed her hand as if he somehow knew she was arguing with herself and offered her a smile. “Do you still have work to do tonight?” she asked as they walked along the rampart toward Cullen’s quarters.

Cullen tugged on her hand, pulling her to a stop. “Don’t leave,” he said. “Please.”

Her chest felt tight as she tipped her face down to look at him. “I was just thinking of getting my book if you needed to take care of anything.” Taashath ducked her head, kissed him softly.

“It can wait until morning.” His hands rested on her hips, squeezed and tugged her closer. “I just want to spend tonight with you. Besides,” he added with a smile. “I did notice you yawn more than once at dinner.”

Taashath’s cheeks flushed and she bit her lip. “I was hoping you didn’t notice that.”

Cullen chuckled quietly. “No such luck, darling. Why don’t we just go to bed.” They continued on to Cullen’s office, he locked the doors while Taasha leaned back against the ladder watching him.

“You didn’t take it, did you?” she asked when Cullen moved to stand in front of her. “The lyrium, that day I-”

“No,” he said with a shake of his head. “I didn’t. It was a close thing, a bad night. I knew I wasn’t strong enough, so I dumped it out.”

Taashath’s brow furrowed and she shook her head a little. “You are strong,” she said, cupping his cheek.

He hummed softly, kissed her palm, then glanced up the ladder. “Come on. Did you take a healing tonic of are you going to be black and blue from your sparring with Bull?”

She turned and started climbing the ladder, not replying, because she hadn’t taken anything and she was covered in bruises. A lantern burned beside the bed, her favorite shirt of Cullen’s that she used to sleep in, lay at the foot of the bed, as if it had been waiting for her. Hands rested on her waist and she felt Cullen kiss the back of her shoulder. “I have a salve that will help with the bruises.”

Taashath turned her head to look at him over her shoulder. “Yes, please.” He nudged her toward the bed and she went, unbuttoning her shirt as she crossed the room. She let it slide off her shoulders and fall to the floor, then sat on the edge of the bed waiting. When Cullen turned around from where he had been rifling through one of the drawers he just stood there for several moments. “What?” she asked, suddenly feeling awkward.

“Maker’s breath, I am glad you’re here. I have missed-” Cullen cleared his throat and then crossed the room to sit down beside her. “I have missed you. I very much enjoy having you here, with me. I just want you to know that in case I do something, or say something.” He sighed rubbing the back of his neck. “I want you here, my darling.”

Taashath didn’t think she had ever heard sweeter words spoken to her. She leaned in and brushed her mouth over his. “I want to be here,” she told him and Cullen let out a relieved breath, resting his forehead against hers.

“Thank the Maker for that,” he said. “Alright, how bad is-” he broke off as he drew back to inspect the bruises. There was a smattering of small ones along her arms, but he easily found the one that had knocked her down and knocked the breath from her lungs. The dark bruise was partially hidden by her breast band.

“It looks worse,” she told him. “Really, it hardly hurts.” The flat look that Cullen gave her said he didn’t believe her. Reaching up, Taashath unfastened her breast band and let it fall to the floor. Cullen’s gaze met hers.

“Nice attempt at a distraction,” he told her. “Were you not covered in bruises, I might have given in.” Instead, he opened the jar, nudged her onto her back and applied the salve to the largest bruise. “Clever tactic, though,” he said after a moment.

Her lips curved and her eyes slipped shut when she felt him brush a kiss against her stomach. “In the book I was reading, the man wasn’t so resistant as you.”

Cullen made a non-committal sound, then leaned on his elbow as he stretched out beside her. “If you weren’t hurt, I wouldn’t be able to resist you at all, my darling.”

“It isn’t that bad,” she said. Cullen reached up, rubbing one his thumb over her lower lip, then down her throat, her eyes fluttered shut as his fingers skimmed the tops of her breasts, her back arched and then he pressed his fingers to the edge of the bruise, not hard, but enough that she winced. “That’s not fair,” she muttered, scowling at him as he leaned down to brush a kiss over her lips.

“I want you, Taasha. I want to kiss and lick and touch you everywhere,” he said, his voice low. “When I do that, I don’t want you feeling any pain.” Cullen kissed her again before reluctantly sitting up and grabbing the shirt she liked to sleep in. Before they had met at the tavern for dinner, Cullen had done what he could to make sure everything was perfect. The lantern glowing, the sleep shirt waiting for her, hopefully reminding her that she belonged.

They got ready for bed and then Cullen pulled back the blankets, and Taashath climbed in, stretching out on her stomach. He laid down beside her, moved as close as he could and laced their fingers together. “I missed you,” he said. He had he wanted her back, but now that she was laying in his bed, he realized he’d missed her even more than he’d known.

“I missed you, too.” she told him and he felt his heart squeeze. She’d been fairly quiet, though she’d never been much of a talker. Cullen hadn’t been sure if she’d relented because he’d pestered her into giving in, or if she truly wanted to be with him. “Wake me up,” she murmured shifting and snuggling closer to him. “If you have a nightmare.”

Cullen kissed her temple and sighed, hoping that he didn’t have to. “I will,” he said. He didn’t know how long he lay there, wide awake while he listened to Taashath’s slow and steady breathing. He ran his fingers through her hair, traced his finger along the edge of her ear. Sleep eluded him.

A quiet sound came from the woman in his arms, she shifted and he saw her brow furrow. “Cullen?” she murmured tiredly.

“What’s wrong, darling?” he asked.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” she asked, pushing up onto one elbow. “Nightmare?” she asked, her other hand splaying out over his bare chest.

“No,” he said. “Nothing is wrong,” he told her. “I-” he paused, ran his fingers along her cheek. “I think I’m just afraid that if I close my eyes, when I wake up, you’ll be gone.” Her brow knitted together. “That this will have been a dream.”

Her gaze softened and she leaned down to kiss him, softly. “I’m not going anywhere, Cullen,” she said against his lips, then she shifted closer. “I’m here,” she murmured, nipping at his lower lip. “I’m staying.” Taashath hooked a leg over his hip and Cullen groaned, his hands going to her waist.

“Taasha,” he mumbled against her mouth.

She hummed quietly against his lips, urged him onto his back, then shifted over him, straddling his waist. “Darling,” she murmured, lifting her head up enough to look him in the eye. “If you are worried about hurting me,” she said, rolled her hips drawing a deep groan from Cullen. “Then keep your hands on my hips.”

Cullen’s hands went immediately to her hips, where he squeezed while she began rocking her hips against his and making quiet noises in the back of her throat. A near desperate wanting filled him. “Taash,” he said against her lips while his hands slid down, under the shirt to cup her bottom as he rocked his hips up against her. All it would take was nudging aside her smalls and he could slip a finger inside. “Are you sure?” he asked, his mouth trailing along her jaw to her ear. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Taashath reared up, with the way her silver hair cascaded over her shoulders as the moonlight poured over her, she looked unearthly. She made quick work of the buttons and stripped off the shirt. The bruise was a dark stain against her chest, but when she skimmed her fingers along the waistband of his pants, he found it distinctly hard to focus.

Leaning over him, she rested her weight on one elbow by his head while the other hand slowly undid the ties at his waist and dipped inside. “Cullen,” she murmured. “Please,” if was a soft word against his mouth. “If anything hurts, I’ll tell you. I promise.” Her fingers found his rapidly hardening cock and he hissed quietly, rocking his hips up to her touch. “I want you. I’ve missed the feel of-” her fingers curled around him, gave his length one slow pump. “I want to feel you inside of me.”

One hand tangled in her hair, while the other slid into her smalls and Cullen moaned at the wet heat that greeted him. All of his plans to take his time with her, to pepper kisses across her body, to bring her to orgasm multiple times before slipping inside her went out the window. “Yes,” he said, pushing one finger inside of her.

Her breath caught. “Yes,” she breathed, hips rolling against his hand. “Please, please,” she begged. “I need-” her hand tightened around his length and her inner walls squeezed around his finger.

“Take off your smalls, darling,” he said and she whimpered quietly when he withdrew his hand. Taashath moved quickly, shoving them off her hips and down her thighs. Cullen made quick work of his own before she climbed back over him. He held a hand out to her, while the other curled around the base of his cock. Eyes locked as slid her fingers between his, palms pressed together, while her other hand went between them to curl around his cock. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, looking up at her.

It had nothing to do with the sex, he thought, though it was very nice. This moment, this having her there with him. She was his and Cullen would do everything in his power to see that she never regretted it. Heat engulfed him as Taashath slid down his cock. He wanted to bury himself inside of her, pound into her while her nails raked down his back. He wanted to roll his hips, slow and gentle, to take his time until she was gasping his name. He wanted her to throw her head back and scream his name to the heavens.


	30. Chapter 30

Back arching, Taashath felt full and stretched and it was perfect. Her right hand squeezed his, while her other hand curled around his forearm where it pressed against her thigh, his fingers digging into her hip. She began to move, slow rolls of her hips that had his length rubbing up inside of her deliciously. Her own fingers had paled in comparison and only left her wanting more. “Cullen,” his name was a breath on her lips when she leaned down, their laced fingers pressing into the bed beside his head.

Cullen lifted his head, claimed her mouth in a deep kiss. He met each roll of Taashath’s hips with one of his own and they found a steady rhythm that left the both of them gasping for air. Cullen began repeating her name like a mantra or a prayer. Taashath reared up, feeling desperate for the edge of completion. She rocked her hips faster, harder, one hand still clutching Cullen’s.

Her other hand went to her breast and she heard Cullen’s breath hitch. Peering down at him without breaking her pace, Taashath caught her nipple between her knuckles and squeezed. Cullen cursed softly and bucked beneath her. She watched his gaze follow her hand as she let it slide down over her belly and between her thighs.

“Yes,” he rasped. “Taasha, darling. Come for me, please, my darling.”

She found the sensitive bundle of nerves and stroked it with one finger. It was difficult to keep up the rhythm as her entire being focused between the pleasure emanating from her core, though Cullen didn’t seem to mind. He planted his feet on the bed and continued driving into her. “Cullen!” she gasped out his name, knowing she was close. 

“Come for me, Taasha. I want to feel you come,” his words were just the coaxing she needed. She cried out. Cullen bucked and she felt him pulse inside of her. Warmth filled her and wrapped around her. Blinking, Taashath froze as she saw the flames that danced over her skin. Her breath stuck in her throat and tears burned the backs of her eyes.

It hadn’t happened since their first time together. Taashath had thought, hoped, that had been the reason. Her inexperience with pleasure. She wanted to apologize and cry, but she was frozen as she watched him. 

Cullen’s brow furrowed, fingers hovering over the now fading fire on her thigh. “Are you alright, darling? Did it- did it burn?” She shook her head slightly. “I could feel it was warm, it covered you completely.” Cullen slid his hand up her thigh and around her waist. “Come here,” he coaxed, tugging her down over him.

“I’m sorry,” she finally managed to choke out, her voice cracking as she tried not to break, her cheek resting against his shoulder.

“It is okay, darling. Taasha, it is alright.” he rubbed his hand up and down her back, fingers firm and reassuring. 

“No it isn’t.”

“I watched the flames spread over your body, Taasha,” Cullen spoke softly, his lips against her forehead. “Ethereal. Fire and moonlight and the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”

Taashath lifted her head and crinkled her nose at him. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“Not at all.” Cullen cupped her face and rubbed his thumb over the fading scars around her lips. He kissed her softly, then reached out to drag the blankets up over her back. “Rest now, darling. Everything is fine,” he said.

Taashath rested her cheek on his chest again, her face pressed into his throat. “You rest too,” she murmured. 

Cullen pressed his face against the crown of her head, breathed in the scent of her and let his eyes slip shut finally. The solid weight of her on his chest and the scent of her in his lungs gave him peace. Sleep wrapped its arms around him and when the sun began to seep into the room hours later, Taasha still lay with her head on his chest, her fingers tracing a scar on his arm. He ran a hand up her back and slid it into her hair.

“How did you sleep?” she asked, tilting her face up to look at him.

For a moment Cullen didn’t respond. He just looked at her. Then he rolled her onto her back and brushed a lingering kiss over her lips. “Have I told you how much I missed you?” he asked and felt her smile against his mouth.

“Mm,” she hummed softly, wrapping her arms around him. “You might have mentioned that.”

“I’ll probably mention it a few more times.” 

She peered up at him, one hand going to his cheek. “I missed you too, Cullen. I- I’m sorry I pushed you away.”

He shook his head. “No, you don’t need to apologize for that. Please, do not apologize. I didn’t deserve you. I still probably don’t.”

“Shh,” Taashath pressed her thumb to his lips. “No. I don’t want to hear that. I’m here and I want to be here.” 

Cullen breathed out a sigh and kissed her thumb, then her lips. “You have no idea how much it means to me to hear you say that, darling.”

They lay there for a while, as the sun continued to creep over the horizon. “We should get up,” Taashath said, unable to help jutting out her lip a little. “We’re supposed to finalize the plans for heading to the Arbor Wilds.”

“There is an end in sight, I hope,” Cullen said, tracing his finger over her cheek. His brow knit together as he looked down at her. He knew her strength, knew she had strong allies at her side. But knowing that he would have to send her up against Corypheus made his chest hurt. 

 

It was nearly two weeks later when they arrived in the Arbor Wilds. Cullen clenched his fist around the coin he’d been holding onto for so long. Some time ago he’d had Dagna craft it into a necklace, unbreakable, she had promised. He hadn’t thought much about why he did it at the time, but now, as he watched Taashath dress and get ready for battle, he knew. “Taasha.”

“Hm?” she glanced up at him as she finished twisting her hair into the twin braids. 

Cullen wished he could do more. “Do me a favor?” he asked, stepping up to her.

“Of course,” she agreed, without hesitation and Cullen’s heart skipped in his chest. 

“Wear this,” he said, looping the chain over her head, careful of her horns. The necklace was long enough that the coin settled low between her breasts.

Her brow furrowed and she caught the coin between her fingers and looked at it. The chain was thin and looked delicate, wrapped around the old, worn coin, that held the shine of something touched often. “What is this?” she asked, inspecting it before tilting her head back to look up at him.

“It’s silly, a childish notion, but please. It was a gift from my brother before I joined the Templars. We are supposed to forsake all worldly possessions, but I held onto it for some reason.” 

She was still toying with the coin between her fingers. “Cullen, no, I can’t. This is-” 

“Important to me. I know it’s foolish, but after-” he broke off, took her hands in his where he pressed kisses to her knuckles. “You’ll be going up against Corypheus soon. I know it won’t keep you safe, but it is a piece of me there with you.”

“What if I lose it?” she asked, her voice quiet.

“I want you to keep it. Maybe it will help to keep you safe, like it did for me all these years.” He took her face between his hands. “Dagna swears the chain is unbreakable.” 

She bit her lip, fingers still playing over the coin. “This means a lot to you?”

“Yes.”

Taashath curled her hand around it, then tucked it into her shirt, and pressed her hand over it. “Okay. But everything will be fine.”

“Maker, I hope you’re right.” He kissed her again, before stepping away to get himself ready.


	31. Chapter 31

Fear held Cullen in a vice grip. Taashath and her companions had vanished into the Temple and then, after a few hours of fighting Red Lyrium infected soldiers and the strange elves, all had gone quiet. It stayed like that for hours. A tense waiting, where everyone was on edge. They had thought to storm the Temple. Cullen had nearly gone himself when as usual, they’d been unable to come to an agreement. But once tempers had cooled, they had investigated and found that the doors were sealed, and there was no way for them to gain entry.

He didn’t sleep. He stood watch over the massive doors, waiting, hoping, praying, that she would emerge. At daybreak, there was still no sign of them. What would be their next step? He paced. What if she had been killed?

_No._

_**No**_ _._ He shook his head angrily, banishing the thought.

“They are safe,” Leliana appeared a few feet away and Cullen looked around, frantic.

“What? Where?” He started to head back to the camp.

“At Skyhold.” He went still then turned slowly to look at her, and she held up a piece of rolled parchment. “I just received word. They went through an eluvian in the Temple.”

It seemed impossible. How could they just be at Skyhold? One moment here, the next, not. Leliana handed over the parchment and he quickly yanked it open, recognized Josephine’s fine script, relaying the message. Could it be a lie? Somehow?

At the very bottom of the page, a small postscript was written and immediately he felt relief wash over him. _‘Darling, I’m fine. Come home.’_

Home. _Home_. It was strange to think of Skyhold as home. Cullen had lived many places over the years, but had never considered any of them _home_. The word fit now, though, because of her. He rubbed the back of his neck, knowing Leliana would have seen the postscript, Josephine, too. They had never hidden their relationship, but they’d never been blatant about it either.

“Should we return to Skyhold?” Leliana asked, and he heard the smirk in her voice.

“Yes,” he said, stalking off toward the camp.

The horses were too slow, the entire camp took far too long to move. His need to be at Skyhold, to see Taashath with his own eyes, to reassure himself that she was truly safe, was nearly overwhelming. Cullen waited as long as he could, before he, Leliana and a handful of soldiers and scouts, a small group that would move much quicker, made their way back to Skyhold.

“Where is she?” he asked, the moment they came through the gates. He shoved the reigns of his horse into a soldier’s hands and then frowned when the woman he’d asked replied. He checked in her small, windowless office first, and when he didn’t find her there, he continued to the room down the hallway, where the statue of Andraste stood.

Pushing open the door he found her. Taashath was on her knees, her hands in her lap and her head tipped back, as she stared up at the statue. Her hair had several small braids, twisted with red ribbon. He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. It was silent in the room until the door clacked as the lock fell into place. Taashath turned her head and he saw the relief in her eyes mirroring his own. “Maker,” he murmured, all but sprinting across the room to wrap his arms around her. He hit his knees and pulled her into his arms, pressing his face into her hair. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” she told him, her arms wrapping tightly around him. “I was so worried about you. Once we were in the temple, I had no idea what was going on outside.”

“You vanished.” He pulled back enough to look at her. “Corypheus fled, any Templars or Wardens that were still allied to him ran, those strange elves-” He broke off when he saw the tears in her eyes. “Darling? Taasha? Tell me what’s wrong?”

She shook her head, her hands curling into the fabric of his mantle at his sides. “Nothing, I’m just-” she broke off and kissed him. Taashath had no idea how to put it into words. She had been terrified for him, and the others, when they’d gone through the Eluvian, not knowing what kind of destruction they may have left behind. Cullen’s worry for her, she could see it in his eyes. He cared.

While she hadn’t doubted it before, she had believed it was more out of duty, or habit. She was the Inquisitor, she had her role to play, her part in all of this. But his concern had nothing to do with any of that and she thought her heart might explode at the realization. He fisted one hand in her hair, while the other slid down her back. His lips were unyielding, his tongue stroking against hers.

Cullen tugged open her shirt and a moment later he’d unclasped her breast band and his lips wrapped around a nipple. She choked out his name and slid one hand into his hair, while the other tugged at the fastenings of his chest piece. “Cullen, please, I need-I need-” His teeth closed gently around the pebbled nub in his mouth and a soft cry escaped her. “Skin!”

Drawing back just enough to help her tug free the armor, his shirt fell to the floor and then so did hers along with her breast band. Both now bare from the waist up, Cullen pulled her close. “Come here,” he said, leading her to the three stone steps that led up to the dais where the statue stood.

For a moment, Taashath was distracted. Andraste. They shouldn’t be doing this here, should they? Then he nudged her onto her back and she hissed at the cold stone against her skin before Cullen leaned over her, his tongue trailing up from her belly to the curve of her breast. He paused, fingers skimming over the coin that rested against her skin over her heart. He looked up at her and she tilted her head down to meet his gaze.

The next moment it was like a spark on dry tinder. Touch turned almost frantic, grappling and desperate. Cullen freed one leg from her trousers, shoved his own down just past his hips before he thrust inside of her. Everything about their coupling felt frenzied. From the way her nails dug into his back as she clung to him, to the hand he had fisted in her hair.

There was nothing soft or tender about it, as Cullen pounded into her, except for the way he pressed his forehead to hers and quietly murmured her name. His hand slid from where it gripped her hip to rub her clit just the way she needed, pushing her over the edge with him.

Taashath wasn’t sure how long they lay there, clinging to one another, Cullen’s head pillowed on her breast when she managed to pry her eyes open. Andraste. The statue towered above them and guilt washed over her. “I am not sure the Maker would approve of what we just did.”

Cullen lifted his head and looked at her, then up to the statue. “Hmm,” he hummed softly before brushing a kiss along her jaw. “You’re probably right. I’ll serve penance by paying worship to Andraste’s Herald.”

“What…?” He hadn’t called her the Herald in so long, not since Haven.

 

His mouth continued along her jaw. “In the long hours of the night,” Cullen captured her earlobe, bit gently, heard her breath catch. “When hope has abandoned me. I will see the stars and know your light remains.”

Down her throat, he paid special attention to the soft smattering of freckles over her collarbone. “I have heard the sound a song in the stillness, the echo of your voice, calling me to wake from slumber.” He felt the fingers of one hand slip into his hair and he could feel the rapid beat of her pulse when he leaned in to nuzzle the other side of her throat.

“You have walked beside me, down the paths were a thousand arrows have sought my flesh.” Fingers of one hand ran along the curve of her shoulder, then traced a small scar on her bicep. “You have stood with me when all others have forsaken me.” He kissed the scar, the crook of her elbow, her wrist. “I have faced armies with you as my shield.”

Cullen shifted to press his lips to her side, then up to trace the underside of her full breasts with his tongue. “And though I bear scars beyond counting,” he continued before kissing a trail down her body. He freed her from her boots, trousers, and smalls, then stripped himself of his own. He knelt between her thighs, hands gently spreading her open to him. “Nothing can break me,” the words came out a rasp as he rubbed his cheek against her inner thigh. “Except your absence.”

Taashath’s cry met his ears as he pressed his mouth to her core. He lashed at her with his tongue, sucking and licking until he felt her fingers tangle in his hair. She trembled under his ministrations and he groaned quietly feeling her heel pressing into his back as she rocked her hips against his mouth. His name became a breathless pant on her lips and he slipped first one, then two fingers into her while he lapped at her clit.

She tugged sharply at his hair and her thighs clenched as she came. He wanted more. He wanted all of her. Cullen wiped his mouth with his hand, then shifted up the length of her body once more. His cock was hard and aching for her, he pushed inside her still clenching walls. “Though the darkness comes upon me,” he rasped against her ear. “I shall embrace the light. I shall weather the storm. I shall endure. What _you_ have created, no one can tear asunder.” He cupped the back of her neck, stared into her eyes and saw the tears that shone there. She clung to him, nails digging into his back as he drove into her again and again.

“ _You_ composed the cadence of my heart,” he murmured. “As I stumble on the path with my eyes closed, yet I see.” He slid his free hand around to the small of her back, angling her hips so that he could rub against the spot that drove her crazy. “The light,” he breathed, ducking his head, he kissed her chest, over her hammering heart, “is here.”

“Cullen!” she sobbed, back arching, her thighs held him tightly, her nails leaving long welts down his back, and he went over the edge with her, easily, happily.

“Taasha,” he said, pushing as deep as he could, wishing they could stay like that forever.


	32. Chapter 32

When her breathing finally returned to something resembling normal, Taashath spoke the words she’d been thinking since her brain had finally started doing more than twitching with pleasure. “That is not how the canticle goes,” she murmured. Most of the words had been right, but he’d changed parts of it. She felt her cheeks flush just thinking about it.

“Hmm,” Cullen rubbed his jaw against her throat, the stubble scratching pleasantly. “I was paying worship to Andraste’s Herald.”

“But I’m not-”

Cullen met her gaze and pressed his thumb to her lips. “I was worshiping you, my darling, which you deserve that, and more.” He kissed her, slow and soft. “I plan to spend the entire evening paying worship to you in our bed.”

Her heart stuttered in her chest, not just at the promise of pleasure. _Our bed_. He withdrew, reaching for their discarded clothing. She caught his hand, tugged him back as she sat up. “And do I get to worship you?” she asked. “Repay all the pleasure you’ve given me?”

He stared down at her for several long moments. “Anything you want, my darling. Anything.” Cullen claimed her mouth in a kiss again and she clung to him, her hands at his waist.

She knew they shouldn’t be there, still naked and making out. Anyone could walk in. But with the door closed, nothing else existed at that moment. The reality of what they had done, what they had found could be so easily ignored. Taashath thought back to a conversation she’d had with Thom, about love, and how it didn’t exist in the Qun. The concept was utterly foreign to her. But as Cullen smiled at her, eyes heavy-lidded, lips red and swollen from their kisses she thought that if she could love anyone, it would be him.

Unconsciously, she clenched her left hand at the tingling sensation that started in the center of the mark. It happened now and then, though usually, it was only when she was near a rift. It didn’t stop though. The pain grew and spread. She frowned down at her hand, trying to ignore it, to will it away. She just wanted to stay in that moment with Cullen for a little while longer. She must have made a sound because Cullen turned, his brow knit in concern.

“Taasha?” The mark flared bright and she cried out as the pain shot all the way up her arm and she swore her heart stuttered in her chest at the same time a loud crack rent the air. “Are you alright?” Cullen asked, his hand carefully cupping hers.

“We should-” she grit her teeth against the shock wave of pain that hit her again. “Get to the War Room.”

They dressed quickly and Cullen held her good hand, tightly in his, as they quickly made their way through the gardens and down the hallway to Josephine’s office. Leliana was already there, and they all hurried into the War Room.

“Looks like we’re doing this now,” Taashath said, shaking out her left hand as she stared at the window and toward the breech. Corypheus wanted to end this now and she didn’t. She was terrified of what would come after if she survived the fight at all.

“The bulk of our troops are still in the Arbor Wilds,” Cullen said, the fear coming through in his tone. She couldn’t possibly go up against Corypheus without the army behind her. She turned her face to meet his gaze and Cullen knew that wouldn’t stop her.

“While we were waiting for you,” Taashath glanced at Cullen and Leliana, “to return, we followed the lead from Morrigan, about going to seek Mythal’s help. She gave it. We have a dragon to face off against Corypheus’.”

He stared at her. This was it. Sending her off to fight once again, and this time, she might not make it back. “You will come back,” he said, then, not caring about their audience, he stepped forward, held her chin and kissed her soundly. “That is an order.”

She kissed him back and he saw the tears shining in her eyes when she pulled away. “I’ll do my best, Commander.” Taashath pressed her hand to the center of her chest, where the coin lay.

_Maker watch over her and bring her back to me. I cannot lose her now, not after everything._ “I’ll gather what troops we have.”

“Be careful,” she called after him and he gave her one last look before slipping out the door. Skyhold was buzzing already. Word traveled fast and with the breech acting up, those who could fight were ready, while those who couldn’t had bunkered down. He caught sight of Rainier as he ordered the troops to get ready to march.

The man approached him when Cullen had finished giving orders and Cullen knew that she would ask Rainier to accompany her. He couldn’t deny that the man had always had her back. “She is getting ready,” Cullen said, glancing toward the castle. Cullen couldn’t go with her, couldn’t fight by her side, though he would in an instant. His place was with the troops. “Keep an eye on her for me? See that she returns safely.”

Rainier stared at him for a moment, then he nodded. “I’ll do my best,” he agreed, before walking off toward the castle. Taashath appeared in the doorway a moment later, wearing her armor, her hair braided back, staff in hand. She no longer resembled the tousled woman he’d made love to on the floor just an hour earlier, but he adored her just the same.

She spoke to Rainier, who quickly walked away, Cullen guessed to prepare himself. Taashath’s gaze caught his from across the courtyard and held. He saw the mark flare up on her hand and she curled it into a fist, and there was nothing that he could do about it. After this, after she won, because that was the only outcome he would accept, he would do everything in his power to make her forget about the pain and the suffering.

 

Taashath’s body was awash with pain. She tripped, stumbling as the piece of earth they stood on fell back to the ground. She’d done it, vanquished Corypheus. She wanted to weep with relief. She could hear a very familiar voice, Cullen, shouting. A smile turned her lips up, despite the pain.

Cullen’s voice grew closer. “Get a healer over here now!” Warm lips pressed to her forehead. “Don’t you dare leave me now, my darling. Maker, _please_ , don’t leave me.”

“Alright,” she mumbled. “I’m here.” Hot tears leaked from her eyes, as she forced them open. Her head hurt and the lights were all too bright. But Cullen’s face hovered above hers.

He touched her cheek and she leaned into it. “How badly are you injured?”

“I’m fine,” she lied. The gash on her leg burned and her head throbbed.

“You are a terrible liar, darling.” He kissed her and then withdrew. A new face filled her vision. A healer, she knew, but her breath hitched.

“Cullen, please, don’t-”

“I’m here.” She felt his hand wrap around hers and caught movement beside her head. He was kneeling by her shoulder, crouched down he kissed the crown of her head. “I’m right here.”

“You’ve just defeated the bane of our existence for far too long, you can’t go dying now,” Dorian was there too, and she felt the familiar buzz of his magic.

She smiled again. “We did it.”

“You did it, it was you, my darling,” Cullen said, fingers sliding over her hair. “I am so proud of you. Even if I was terrified.”

Taashath drank the tonic and let the healing magic wash over her, while Cullen continued to murmur soft reassuring words in her ear. Finally able to get to her feet, she leaned into Cullen as he led her back down the trailing path to Skyhold. She didn’t object when he lead her to the baths, she was filthy. Covered in dirt, blood, and sweat. “Sit,” he said, nudging her onto one of the stone benches before he disappeared.

When he returned he was carrying a change of clothes for her and a large towel. He set them on the bench beside her then began to remove her armor. She caught his hands with hers and held them. “Cullen,” she said his name softly, but he stopped, looked at her. “What happens now?” she asked quietly.

He reached up and pushed a lock of hair that had come free from the braid off her cheek. “We get cleaned up, crawl into bed, and sleep for a week.” A soft laugh bubbled out of her, and Cullen’s eyes softened, his mouth twisting into a grin of its own. “Maker, I love that sound.”

Heat flushed her cheeks and she ducked her head. “That isn’t what I meant, though, it does sound lovely.”

“I know you didn’t. Josephine is talking about a celebration.Victory for the Inquisition. After, there are still things the Inquisition can do. A handful of rifts have still been reported.”

“So the Inquisition still stands?”

“For now, I would imagine.” Cullen kissed her brow and returned to helping strip her and then himself. He held her hand and tugged her to the sunken tub. She hissed at the heat of the water, and let Cullen pull her over to one of the stone seats where a bar of soap sat nearby.

“But after… what happens once all of that is done?”

Cullen paused in his task of washing her hair. “Honestly, I don’t know.” He cupped her jaw, turning her face to his. “But I hope you’ll allow me to stay by your side through whatever is to come.”

Her heart fluttered in her chest and she leaned into his hand, then kissed his palm. “There is no one I’d rather have beside me.”

He let out a breath, then grinned. “That is a relief.”

“Besides,” she murmured a while later. They were clean and just sat in the water, Cullen holding her against his chest, fingers absently tracing over bare skin beneath the water. “That candy from Mia was the best I’ve ever had.”

Cullen chuckled and then carefully sunk his teeth into the side of her neck. A playful bite that left a mark on her skin. “Brat,” he said when she yelped out a laugh.


	33. Chapter 33

Cullen stood by the dresser, tugging at the fancy cufflinks of the uncomfortable attire that Josephine insisted he wear. He could see Taashath in the mirror, already in bed, leaning back against a massive stack of pillows. She wore the chemise he’d bought for her months ago, all silk and lace, his coin still hung on a chain around her neck and rested gently between her breasts. She touched a finger to her lower lip, and Cullen felt his lips pull up into a smile at the all too familiar habit.

Maker, he wanted forever with her. “Darling,” he said and she made a soft sound, raised her eyebrows without tearing her gaze from the book resting in her lap. “Maker’s breath, I love you,” he whispered because he couldn’t just tell her, could he? It wasn’t that he hadn’t known for a very long time that he loved her, but the words were hard to say. So he said it in other ways. Every time he called her ‘darling,’ each time he pressed his lips to the back of her hand.

The last few months had been relatively calm. Taasha had rarely left Skyhold and they had spent more time just being together, lounging in the gazebo in the gardens. Sharing a mug of ale in the tavern. They had even taken the time to travel to visit Mia and the rest of his family, who had unsurprisingly loved Taasha. Cullen never wanted to give that up. He knew that Taashath was leaning toward disbanding the Inquisition, but he also knew that she was afraid to.

Her brow furrowed and she finally tore her gaze from the book to look at him. Varric had given her earlier that day when they had arrived at the Winter Palace and she’d been itching to retire to their quarters all day so she could read. “What?”

“Are you going to stay up all night reading?” he tugged his shirt over his head and shed his trousers before climbing onto the bed. Taashath bit her lip and ducked her head as if thinking it over. “Very well,” he said crossing to the bed, “you continue reading, do enjoy, don’t mind me.” Cullen practically dove under the blankets and he heard Taasha laugh and her book hit the floor with a solid thump as he made himself comfortable between her thighs.

Her fingers slipped into his hair and he heard her sigh softly. Her laughter came more often these days, the smiles less of a rarity. But each one still made his heart swell.

Later, they lay there, skin bare and sweaty. Her cheek rested on his shoulder and he stroked his fingers through her hair. “Darling,” he murmured, pressing his lips to the top of her head.

Taashath hummed softly, rubbing her cheek against his chest. “Kadan?”

_My heart._

He hoped that meant she loved him as well. But he couldn’t just say the words. They had been together for so long, years. The word love never once uttered between them. What if he said it and it changed things? What if that wasn’t what she wanted? Hadn’t she once said as much?

_I adore you. I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you._

“Did you see Rainier today?”

She shifted, resting her hand over his chest, then her chin on her hand so she could look up at him. “I did, he seems… better. The Grey Wardens have been good for him, I think.” Cullen agreed. He’d always thought it was the best outcome. The man wanted to do good, to help, and the Wardens allowed him to do that. “He went to try and make amends with his men, the ones that still live.”

“How many times did he get punched in the face?”

Taashath laughed softly, tilted her head down to kiss his chest. “I asked him the same thing.”

“And?”

“He lost count.” Cullen couldn’t deny that it brought him a bit of satisfaction knowing that. “You’re terrible,” she told him, pushing up onto her elbow.

“What did I do?” he asked innocently.

“Grinning like a fiend,” she chided him. “He told me the two of you spoke.”

That wiped the smile from his face in a heartbeat. “Did he now.”

Taashath cupped his jaw, her fingers rubbing along the stubble. “He wouldn’t tell me what was said, but I want you to know I never wanted him. It was only ever you.”

Cullen’s features softened and his throat tightened. He and Rainier had talked for a while. Made peace with each other. Rainier had said he hoped the pair was happy, before adding that they should name their first born son after him.

_I love you._

_I want to marry you._

_I want a family with you._

They were all things Cullen had never thought to want. As a Templar, they were the farthest thing from his mind. But now… could they? Would she want that? She yawned and pressed her face against his chest. “Sleep, darling, you’re exhausted,” Cullen said, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Taashath hummed softly before rolling onto her side and Cullen followed, wrapping his arms around her. She tugged her hair over her shoulder and he kissed the back of her neck.

 

 

A dead Qunari and Taashath had vanished through an Eluvian that had appeared at the Winter Palace. When she returned, she was quiet, distant. “Darling,” he said quietly moving to stand beside her as she stared out the window.

“I thought it was over,” she said quietly. “I thought that we could just end the Inquisition. We did everything we set out to do. I thought that we could have … peace and quiet.” She was so tense, he was almost afraid to touch her, worried she might shatter if he did. Taasha clenched her left hand, squeezed it into a fist and make a quiet sound. “It’s spreading. Going through the Eluvian, the elven artifacts seem to be making it worse.”

_Then you won’t go through the Eluvian again_. He wanted to say. To order. Cullen couldn’t lose her, he was certain he would never be the same. But he knew her well enough to know she wouldn’t stop. Too much was at stake. “I am going with you the next time,” he said, his voice hard. He would not stand idly by while she once again, put her life on the line for Thedas.

“You can’t, Kadan,” she said, turning to him, her right hand cupped his cheek. “I need you here. I need you to be here in case… in case I fail.”

“That is not an option. I won’t allow it,” Cullen grit out.

The corner of her mouth turned up into a faint smile. “I-” her voice cracked and tears were suddenly rolling down her cheeks. Concern flared in his chest. He reached for her and she let him tug her close, but she was still smiling. “I never expected this, you. I never expected _you_. Cullen, I-” she shook her head. “There aren’t relationships in the Qun. Being Saarebas, something like this was never even in the realm of possibilities for me. But you, Maker, you. I would never have made it through the last years without you.”

Cullen shook his head, not believing that for an instant. “Yes, you would have. Because you are brilliant, amazing, so strong. Watching you go from quiet and timid, to a beautiful force to be reckoned with has been the best part of my life.” Her cheeks turned pink and Cullen took her hands in his. He kissed the knuckles of both. “Marry me.”

“What?” it was a choked out sound.

“I-” he felt his face flush with heat and released one of her hands to rub the back of her neck. “Maker’s breath. I love you. I am heart-stoppingly in love with you, my darling, Taasha. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” The tears had stopped, but now she just stared at him, her expression one he’d never seen before. “I love you,” he repeated, afraid that he may have just ruined everything.

“I.. I don’t-” she broke off and Cullen felt as if he’d been kicked in the stomach. He released her had immediately and regretted opening his mouth. He remembered that conversation they had years ago now when this had all started, while in Val Royeaux. Taashath had said she didn’t want forever. He hadn’t wanted it either at the time.

“I apologize,” Cullen said, waving his hand as if he could erase the last hour of time. “I didn’t mean to,” he sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I love you, I cannot deny that. I never thought I would love anyone, most certainly not a mage. I don’t expect that you feel the same way, or that you need say it in return. But you mean the world to me and I don’t want to be without you.”

Cullen took a step back, started to turn away, but Taashath caught hold of him, used her size and strength to her advantage and tugged him back to her. Her mouth covered his, hard, bruising, and it tasted like tears. “Love you,” it was a broken sound against his lips. “I love you,” she said again. He wrapped his arms around her, fisted a hand in her hair. He thought his heart might explode. She mumbled it again into the kiss and Cullen couldn’t hold her tight enough, couldn’t kiss her deep enough to express his happiness.

He realized that he’d backed her against the window that she had been staring at, and she now sat on the sill, one leg wrapped around his thigh. He drew back enough to look at her, to brush the tears from her still damp cheeks. “Will you marry me, Taasha? My darling, my love, be my wife.”

Taashath shook her head, her heart lodged in her throat. She wanted it, hadn’t realized she wanted it until he spoke the words. But the Anchor was spreading and if she couldn’t figure out a way to stop it, she knew it would kill her. “If I die-”

“You won’t,” it was a vehement hiss.

She smiled, albeit a little sadly and cupped his jaw. “Kadan, I don’t want to leave you, I never even thought to hope for something like this. I want to be your wife, but if this,” she held up her left hand, “kills me. I won’t leave you a widower.”

“Do you truly believe that you being my wife or not would change how I feel about you? Married or not, if I lost you-” his voice cracked. “I adore you, I love you. You,” he swallowed hard, “you are my home. Marry me, let us have this. No matter what happens, nothing can take this piece of happiness from us.”

She should argue. They shouldn’t. But if she did die… her hand throbbed, a painful reminder that time was ticking by. “Yes,” it came out a breathy whisper. “Yes, Cullen.”


	34. The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Warning: Gets a bit graphic, bloody and injury wise...**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone who read this for sticking with me and endured all the breakdowns and disasters of this story. I know i"ve said it before, but this story turned into so much more than I ever expected, and the response I have gotten from you all has been pretty freaking amazing. I cannot thank you enough, if you read it, left kudos or comments, just know that I love you! and I hope that you enjoy the ending. 
> 
> I do still plan to rewrite this, but the posting of that is a long way off since I want to have it finished before I even start posting and this story needs a lot of work.

It was a quiet affair, private, just the two of them. After they returned to their quarters, the dog tagging along behind them. Taashath lay on her side, Cullen stretched out in front of her. He couldn’t help but think the dog liked her more than himself. Taashath had knelt down in front of him, rubbed his ears and dubbed him Noms. When Cullen had raised his brows at the name she’d given him a small smile. “It means _Cake,_ _essentially_.” The dog had barked and danced happily and he’d resigned himself to calling the dog Noms, who was now curled up in the bend of her knees behind her.

“You should try to sleep,” Cullen murmured.

“No,” she said quietly, her fingers curling tighter on the front of his shirt. “I don’t want to miss even one moment more with you.”

“Darling,” his voice wavered. “You’ll survive this,” Cullen insisted. He reached up, tracing his finger along her ear, the curve of her horn. “You’ll survive, and we will go visit Mia again. She will make you all the sweets you can possibly eat.”

Her lips twisted up into a smile. “I like them,” she said quietly. “All of your family. Watching you with your nieces and nephews, it was...” she trailed off. It had pulled at something deep inside of her. “I want to visit them again.”

“We will,” he said, brushing a kiss against her lips. Then they just lay there, quietly, their own breathing and the snores from the dog the only sound in the room until an insistent knock on the door tore them apart.

Taashath was distracted by Cullen, watching him, wanting to memorize him. The pain in her hand was near constant and she knew that what was going to happen would not end well.

 

Cullen stayed by her side, their fingers laced together until she ducked her head and brushed a kiss over his lips, then broke away to step through the mirror. He stayed there, pacing, hands clenching and unclenching as they waited. He waited. Every second lasted hours as he waited. She would be fine, he told himself, again and again. Rainier had promised he’d do what he could to see that she made it back to him.

Hours had passed and Cullen was certain he’d never been so afraid. Still, more time passed, Josephine tried to distract him, but he wasn’t having it. He would not budge until his wife stepped safely back through the mirror. “Something is wrong,” he murmured, staring hard into the mirror. The high afternoon sun filtered in through the thin stained glass windows. Too much time had passed. He felt it, a bone-deep knowledge, something was very wrong.

“Get my sword,” he commanded one of the men standing guard. He had forgone the formal attire, but in deference to Josephine’s demands, he’d not worn his sword. But now, he was done playing nice. Cullen wasn’t going to just wait around any longer and hope that the woman he loved might stumble back through an enchanted mirror. The guard rushed to obey and Josephine shook her head, disapproving.

“Cullen, you can’t,” she said, her accent slightly thicker, a sign of her annoyance.

“Something is wrong,” he repeated. “I am going through that mirror and I am going to find my wife.”

Josephine blinked, a startled expression on her face. “Wife?”

“Wife,” he repeated. She opened her mouth, snapped it shut. The guard appeared with Cullen’s sword and he strapped it on before taking a breath. He turned to the mirror, stared at it, and then slowly raised a hand. There was a strange resistance when Cullen pressed his fingers to the glass. Not solid, but viscous. Like jelly, soft but solid. Then he pushed and found himself stepping through into a strange floating place.

Cullen barely made it two steps when Cole appeared in front of him. “Something is wrong,” the boy said, echoing Cullen’s earlier thoughts. “The mirror went solid and we can’t get through. She is on the other side.”

“Where?” Cullen rasped out and Cole led the way along the winding paths and through other mirrors. They found Rainier and Dorian standing in front of another mirror, one that looked solid and unpassable.

“We were right behind her,” Rainier said, gesturing to the mirror. “But the second she went through it changed and we couldn’t get through.”

Somewhere, on the other side of that mirror was Taashath and he knew she was in trouble. Breath locked in his throat as he pressed his hand to it and found it completely solid. “There must be another way,” he insisted.

“We tried,” Dorian said. “Wherever she is, this is the only mirror that leads there.”

He couldn’t accept that. Wouldn’t. He pressed his forehead to the glass and sent up a silent prayer. The urge to slam his fist into it tugged at him, but he knew if he did that he’d lose her forever. More waiting. Painful, slow, waiting. Then, one second the mirror was solid and the next it shimmered and Cullen lunged for it.

He ran through the broken ruins, over rocks and stones, scrambled up a path and then he froze. The spot of dark blue on a patch of brilliant green grass. She lay, unmoving. “Taasha!” he yelled, running toward her. She didn’t move. He saw the red. Her dagger soaked in blood lay between limp fingers. Her eyes were open, empty. “No, no, no!”

Cullen fell to his knees beside her, horror wrapping it’s fist around his throat as he stared down at her. Her left arm, “Maker’s breath,” he choked out. It was a mess and there was so much blood. “Taasha, Taasha, my love, please,” he pleaded, he touched her face. Taashath blinked very slowly. Her lips moved, but no sound came out. “You’re okay,” he told her. “You’ll be fine. I’ve got you, everything is- please, hold on, darling, please.”

The others were there seconds later, Dorian did what he could for her arm, trying to staunch the bleeding. “We have to get her back. I can’t-” he shook his head, his hands covered in her blood.

Cullen ducked his head, pressed a kiss to her mouth. “Hold on, my love.” Then he moved around to slid his arms under her shoulders, while Rainier went to her feet. Taashath let out a blood curdling scream as they lifted her, before falling unconscious. Dorian held her mutilated arm and Cole made their passage easier.

The journey back through the mirrors was never-ending and more than once, Cullen found himself blinded by tears. What if they were too late? What had happened to her arm? The bloodied dagger in her hand had indicated she very well may have tried to cut the growing anchor out herself.

When they finally made it back through the glass, healers, mage and non-mage were summoned and she was whisked away to a room where they worked to save her. Cullen refused the leave her side. The cot she lay on was too small, and they surrounded her, not granting him any space. But he stayed, hovering, refusing to leave her.

Her arm was unsalvagable. Despite the potions and tonics they poured down her throat she screamed, eyes wide and filled with tears when they cut it off. Cullen shoved his way through the crowd. He saw the spark of flame in her palm. Her fingers were coated in fire. He grabbed hold of her right hand, felt the heat, but it didn’t burn. He squeezed it tightly while he leaned his face close to hers. “Darling, darling, Taasha, it’s okay.”

Her eyes were unfocused, rolling this way and that. “Listen to me, my love. You’re safe. I know it hurts, I am so sorry.” He pressed his forehead against hers. “Darling,” he murmured quietly, tried to reassure her. The flames that had begun to lap up her arm went out and she blinked a few times.

His name came out a rasp between split lips while tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. “The anchor… Solas...it hurt-” her voice broke and she cried out softly. Another tonic was pressed to her lips and her lids fluttered. “Cullen,” she murmured. “Don’t leave...”

“I am here, darling. I’m here.” He whispered against her ear, pressing his cheek to hers, refusing to be moved while the healers continued to work.

When the healers finally withdrew, Taashath was taken up to their quarters. Noms whined and whined until Cullen relented and let him climb up onto the bed beside her. He curled up against her right side, his head resting on her stomach. Cullen sat in a chair beside her, his hand curled around her thigh. She’s fine, he told himself. She’ll be fine. If the fever doesn’t take her. Her left arm was gone above the elbow. No sign of the anchor. Solas had done it? It had been obvious she cut at her arm with her dagger. Had she tried to cut the spreading mark out of her arm herself before Solas took it?

 

The dreams she had were strange and vivid. Some were terrifying while others she never wanted to leave. But she knew they were dreams. Taashath remembered the pain of the spreading mark. Solas standing there, telling her of his plans. Then he’d waved his hand and she’d felt the anchor being pulled from her arm. She felt like she was unraveling. It started in her palm, spread to her fingers and up her wrist. She’d watched in horror as threads of magic pulled from her arm, up farther and farther.

Would it consume her entirely? Solas disappeared through the mirror and still it pulled and spread. Cullen. Cullen. She’d promised him she’d come back. She loved him, her husband, she wanted a life with him. Even if it meant hacking off her arm. She fumbled for the dagger she always carried at her back. Too small. It would never cut though, but she had to try. The others were still gone and she knew deep down that she’d never make it to where they were, even if the Eluvian was opened again.

Taashath cut and sliced, stabbed and retched when the pain grew blinding. She was going to die. Heat curled around her. Held her fast. It was so much better than the cold that had her before. Quiet sounds reached her ears. Quiet snores, murmured prayers. A solid weight against her hip. A warm hand on her bare thigh. Pain. Her throat ached and she felt as if she’d been screaming for days.

Blinking, Taashath forced her eyes open, the room was dimly lit and as she angled her head to try and look she could Cullen sitting in a chair beside her. Elbow on his knee, hand to his mouth, his other hand beneath the blanket, calloused but so gentle on her thigh. His eyes were closed and she could hear the soft whispered prayers coming from his lips. At her other side, the Mabari lay pressed fully against her side, his head resting on her stomach, the source of the quiet snores.

She lifted her arm, fingers aching to reach out and touch Cullen’s face. A sound escaped her. Pain lanced through her. There was no hand, no wrist or elbow. Her left arm was gone. “Darling,” Cullen lurched slightly, his eyes meeting hers. He squeezed her thigh then withdrew, grabbed a vial and pressed it to her lips. “Drink, drink, it’s okay. I’m here.”

The liquid was cool and bitter. It soothed her parched throat and eased the pain pulsing in what was left of her arm. Noms shifted, whining and before Cullen could reprimand the dog for moving up closer, she rested her right hand on the dogs head. “It’s okay,” she rasped out. “I’m okay. I’m-” her voice cracked. “Cullen,” she sobbed.

He moved around the bed, grumbling quietly when the dog refused to budge and stretched out beside her, as close as he could. “You’re okay. You’re alive. You’re safe. I’ve got you and I’m never letting you go.” Cullen slid one arm beneath her neck, pressed his lips to her temple and found her hand with his free one. He laced their fingers together and let it rest on the dog.

 

Weeks later, they had good days and bad. Some days not having an arm didn’t bother her in the least, other days the pain ate away at her and she’d spend hours hunched over a bin, throwing up. Those days the dog rarely left her side and Cullen spent much of it fretting.

When she had been well enough, she had disbanded the Inquisition, and they had returned to Skyhold only to pack up their belongings before leaving to go stay with Cullen’s family for a time. “Would you take a walk with me, darling?” Cullen asked on one of the good days, when he found her giggling with Mia and Rosalie, with one of his nieces perched on her lap.

Noms tagged along as they walked, fingers laced together. “How do you feel, darling?”

“Today is good,” she told him, rolling her left shoulder. “I hate taking the tonics,” she muttered.

“They help with the pain,” he said softly, knowing how she felt. He hated taking tonics when his head ached from the withdrawal. “But if you don’t want to take them, we’ll figure something else out.” She made a noncommittal sound and they continued in silence, Noms occasionally running off to grab a stick and bringing it back for Cullen to throw. “I love you,” he said and saw her smile, it made his heart beat faster every time. The way it softened her features and made him feel like he was the luckiest man alive.

“And I you,” she told him, squeezing his hand.

“What do you think?” he asked, tugging her to a stop in front of an old cabin. It had been empty for years and definitely looked it.

Her brow furrowed. “About what?” she asked.

“Making a home here,” he said, jerking his head toward the house.

“Here?” her voice held a hint of disbelief.

“It needs work, I know, but I’m willing. I… I want to do the work.” To fix it, to make it their home, to maybe raise a family in it. “If not, we can-” She made a quiet sound, broken and Cullen frowned when he saw the tears on her cheeks. “We can find something else,” he said, backpedaling. “Somewhere else if you prefer.” Though he was not eager to leave his family, the last weeks spent with them had been wonderful.

“No, no, no, that isn’t-” she half sobbed, half laughed and threw her arm around his shoulders, tugged him close and pressed her lips to his. “Yes, I love it yes. I want to stay here. I want-” she kissed him again. “I want to stay here with you. I want a garden and children always underfoot. I-” Taashath bit down on her lip and she suddenly looked very nervous. “Could we have children, someday? Or adopt if you don’t want-”

He knew what she was thinking. A mage parent didn’t always guarantee a mage child, but the odds were high. “Both, my darling. I want children with you, I want to watch your belly grow with my child inside of you.” His eyes went a little darker at the thought of what they would have to do to get her pregnant. They hadn’t made love since before they had married. “We can adopt too,” he said, his arms banding around her waist. “All the children you want, my darling.” He flashed her a grin. “Though we may need to add on to this little cabin before we do that.”

She smiled, ducking her head down to kiss him. “I can’t wait,” she said, resting her forehead against his.


End file.
